Bird Tree's
by waywardvictorian
Summary: AU, "Bond Black... God, that's awful. I like it." That's all it took for Harry Potter to be no more, Bond is stuck and needs a way out. Hogwarts looks more appealing everyday and Lucius always proves a challenge. Pairing: Lucius/Harry
1. Chapter 1

Bird Tree's

**A/n:** I have been working on this a while, and greatly hope that you like it. I would like to thank my amazing beta Corycian Muse, as well as Ex Mentis for all the fabulous helps they have given me

-V

Disclaimer: not mine.

Please enjoy, and any and all feed back is very much appreciated

Prologue

Sirius grinned down at the small child, his dark hair falling all about his face. A very young Harry looked up at Sirius with wide green eyes. Sirius sniggered. He sat beside the small child. "Bond Black... God, that's awful. I like it."

That's all it took for Harry Potter to be no more.

Chapter One: A Pathetic Attempt

Bond stood under the dripping awning; he shook the rain out of his hair. His tight green jacket was pulled close. He sighed, his hands sunk deep in his pockets. Just his luck - of course it was raining.

Max and James were begging the landlady to give them another week to make rent, but Bond doubted this would work. She had never liked the three of them. It wasn't that they had caused any problems, but she found housing three high school drop-outs to be very unsavory.

This irked Bond to no end. He wasn't made for high school - not that he would have been able to keep attending. What with working fulltime and still not being able to pay that month's rent. The three of them were in trouble again.

Bond couldn't return to the small apartment that night. They had been locked out for once again failing to pay the rent. It was highly probable that Max's pleas would be unanswered and thus their home lost, and Bond, unlike his two friends, didn't have someone he could rely on to stay with.

He wasn't sure where to go. His last shift of the day had ended mere moments ago, and no money could be found in his pockets. He was slender, he had always been, but recently he had taken on an unhealthy pinched look. The house had taken priority over food.

Bond looked out into the grey street. The light rain had stopped and the late spring air was still heavy. A light mist cloaked the city. Bone had no intention of sleeping on the street: he wasn't above using people. He had come to realize this at a young age, not that long after Sirius had left and Bond had acknowledged he wouldn't be coming back.

He needed a plan. But nothing was coming to mind. The sun had set, and the damp cold was setting in. Bond pulled his clammy jacket tighter, and pushed his dark unruly bangs from his eyes. He started walking, knowing he would stay warmer that way. He knew he would eventually come up with some sort of idea. Once he had something, _anything_, he could make it work.

His meandering took him up towards the high street, and he passed what he had for a long time considered as his own personal hell; known to most as high school. The gates were locked shut, for the school day was long over. The trees creaked menacingly against the iron rails. He stopped a moment to glare heavily at the building; his distaste had not diminished with time.

Bond grew sick of walking aimlessly. He hadn't gotten anywhere productive and was getting colder. He was also still without a clue of how he could procure a bed for the night.

While he was pondering his situation, a voiced called to him from behind, "Hey! Black! Come here!"

Bond's head snapped around. He smiled and quickly crossed the road to the small pastry shop, where the owner of the voice now stood.

"Margo," he said, "You called?"

She tossed her long thick brown hair over her shoulder, "That I did. I have a bit of a problem and could use your help."

She beckoned for him to follow her into the shop.

He quirked an eyebrow and followed. The bell sounded as the door shut. The shop was compact: a single counter ran along the back wall, and a few small round tables occupied the other half of the room. During the day it was a lovely place: sun would pour in the large front windows making the place very welcoming.

Margo walked around the counter, and turned to face Bond. "Right so here is the dilemma." Having said this, she pulled a large tray from under the glass cases resting on the counter. "Somehow we ended up with all this bread. I have no idea what to do with it all, and we can't use it tomorrow. I figured you guys could use it."

Free food. A beautiful thing. Too bad they couldn't take it. "We really could, but we've been locked out."

"Damn, for how long? Where are you staying?"

"Indefinitely, possibly, and I don't know where I'm staying." Bond shrugged.

"You know I'd offer...but..." Margo sighed.

"Yeah, I know it's no big deal. I'll figure something out eventually. Worst case is that I'll have to wait till Friday, and get a shitty-ass hotel room."

"Well, good luck, and you should at least take a cookie: they're good for you."

"I'll buy that, thanks." Bond grabbed the oversized chocolate chip cookie that Margo had offered.

"Any time man, I'll talk to you later? I gotta close up."

With his meager dinner in hand Bond took his leave. Margo had a shop to close. Outside the shop, he paused and stared into the glass shop window. He sighed; at least he wasn't still that soggy-looking from the rain that had fallen earlier. He was trying to retie his hair into a rough ponytail, cookie between his teeth, when his eyes caught on a man's reflection.

He was tall, with legs that Bond was convinced reached for miles, and pale blond hair hanging down his back. He stunk of the filthy rich, and Bond was enthralled. He wanted that one. Not that he had even a snowball's chance in hell. Bond was a skinny thing, not even seventeen, and that was what a real aristocrat looked like.

Bond stared after the man had passed. He couldn't be Italian, not with alabaster skin like that. He held his head high and looked down on all around him. Bond's green eyes followed the man as he progressed toward the end of the side street. Bond made to follow him, all the while munching on his huge cookie. This man was totally unapproachable, totally and utterly. This would be a challenge, and that was half the fun.

Lucius Malfoy could feel the many eyes on his back. He ignored the stares and continued on his way. He wasn't enjoying this business trip that he had been sent on. He wasn't even sure of the point of it. Yet here he was, and here he would remain for the rest of the summer. He was contemplating the possibility of any way to get out of this situation, when suddenly he was roughly shoved forward.

He stumbled a few steps, and heard a startled cry from behind him. Lucius whirled about, glaring down on whoever dared to crash into him. A slender boy lay at his feet. He was sprawled on the ground. He looked up at Lucius with huge dark green eyes and a scowl.

His straight dark bangs fell into his face, and his short spiky ponytail had begun to come undone. The boy groaned and started to stand. His foot slipped and he fell pathetically back to the ground.

Lucius smirked, and offered a long-fingered hand to the boy. "You're rather pathetic, aren't you?" he commented, arching a long, elegant, blond eyebrow.

Bond glared up at the aristocratic man he had been shoved into to: what a way to make an impression. Still, he took the offered hand. "No," he said pulling himself up, and brushing off his damp jacket, "Pathetic is not something I consider myself."

"You may want to re-evaluate that then, Mr.-?" added Lucius dryly.

"Bond." was the clipped answer.

"You can't be serious; I genuinely hope you're not actually Mr. Bond. That would be truly unfortunate."

Bond laughed, "No, not Mr. Bond, I'm Bond, Bond Black. Which as you just said is rather unfortunate. So following your logic I would be Mr. Black, but can we just cut the Mr. Crap?" Bond asked, before adding, "And you are?"

"I hardly see the relevance, but I am Lucius Malfoy." He paused momentarily, taking in Bond's appearance with a keen eye. "And you will be pathetic until you somehow manage prove otherwise."

"Can I prove myself over coffee?" asked Bond, attempting to get his hair to behave.

"Is it not rather late for coffee?" asked Lucius

"A drink then?"

Lucius shook his head. "You hardly look of age."

Bond smiled, tilting his head slightly, "I'm not."

Lucius was intrigued by this boy, who had at first glance looked like nothing. But when he smiled his whole face lit up. His green eyes full of adventure and mischief. A boy who would readily admit he wasn't of age but wanted a drink anyway.

"A late dinner, perhaps?"Lucius suggested. Bond's eyes lit up, He was about to speak when he stopped himself, thought for a moment, and said instead, "I'll warn you now, I've no money."

"And you say you aren't pathetic? No matter, I can pay. Come." Lucius started off, and Bond followed close behind. He led Bond into a part of the city that was rather unfamiliar: new, towering buildings surrounded them, old hotels and restaurants mixed in. Bond had never ventured into this part of New York: he didn't have the kind of money to even breathe here.

Lucius led him to one of the many hotels, "The food here is good. I've always liked _The Mirabelle_." He held the door open for a dazed Bond, who felt extremely out of place. Here he was in his slightly faded jeans, and damp black top and still soggy green jacket, while Lucius was dressed in a finely tailored suit. Bond doubted he would even be able to afford Lucius's tie. For once in his life Bond Black was overwhelmed.

Lucius didn't notice. He led Bond to the front desk and had the boy wait behind him, "I would like to get at table at the restaurant. Is that possible?" Lucius asked the girl at the front desk. She smiled coyly, before shooting a disapproving glance at Bond.

"How many? And what name am I to register this under, sir?" she asked, sweetly flashing him her teeth.

"A table for two, and I would like it under Malfoy. Is there a table free now?"

Her eyes widened at the name, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, there is... You can go up any time."

Lucius inclined his head, and motioned for Bond to follow him to the elevator. Bond had finally overcome his awe of the building, and began to wonder just who Lucius Malfoy was to garner such a response.

Upon reaching the top floor of the restaurant, Bond was suddenly overcome by an insecurity he had never felt before. These kinds of places had dress-codes - how would they ever allow him in, dressed as he was? But then again, Lucius Malfoy seemed to propagate leniency in other people, which could only mean he was someone very important...

Lucius looked back at Bond, who appeared entirely lost and out of place. "Come. You wouldn't want to get lost. Aren't you trying to prove you are not pathetic? So far you have done a thoroughly wretched job," he commented.

Bond fell in step with him. "This is a bit out of my element. Forgive me for being a little distracted."

Lucius nodded.

They were quickly seated, and Bond pulled the menu towards himself, " Uh, Lucius... Are you sure you want to pay for me? This isn't cheap..."

"It is no trouble Bond, get whatever you please."

Lucius ordered a glass of wine, while Bond scoured the menu. He was quick to decide, and their order was put in when the towering Grandfather Clock struck ten.

Lucius looked at Bond over the top of his menu. "It seems to be a bit late for someone such as you to be out on a Wednesday night." His eyebrow raised in question.

Bond shrugged, nonplussed, "I don't have to work tomorrow morning. My shift isn't until the afternoon."

"And someone won't be wondering where you are? Being underage after all," said Lucius, not concerned, but curious, perhaps.

"Actually, I'm more worried where my roommates are. They didn't make their half of the rent, and may have have lost us our apartment" Bond said, before picking up Lucius's forgotten wine and taking a sip. He added, "I made my half, and added more. It still wasn't enough." He added sourly, quieter, "If anyone's pathetic, they are - not me."

Lucius took back his wine. "You've done nothing to prove me wrong, yet, Bond."

Bond nodded, "Okay point taken. Although I did get you to buy me dinner. So I can't be totally worthless then."

"Touché. You did indeed. You're rather fascinating, you know." Lucius swirled the last of his wine, before taking a sip.

"I'd have never noticed, being me and all." Bond responded. When the food arrived, Bond had to try not to stuff his face, and at least attempt to have decent manners. This was the first real meal he'd had that week. And all this food was just so incredibly good. Dinner passed in a comfortable silence, one in which Lucius would periodically interject questions for Bond who, for the most part, didn't mind answering.

Later, Lucius graciously paid the somewhat large check, and the two of them walked into the dark street. "You have yet to prove me totally wrong, Bond," he remarked.

Bond nodded, "Well shall I have another go then?"

Bond stepped close to Lucius's chest and looked up at him through dark lashes. Lucius's pale fingers ran down Bond's tanned cheek. "Yes... I think another attempt should be demonstrated. Where are you staying Bond?"

Bond cast his eyes down, internally pleased. It was what he had been hoping to hear, and he was going to milk it for all he could. "I - well I don't know." He lightly bit his full bottom lip and looked up with concerned eyes.

Lucius lips curled into an offhanded smile, and he leaned into Bond's ear, "Your craftiness is impressive... but it still needs work." He stood straight again, and continued, "And yes, you can stay with me. I should like to hear your counter argument, if you have one. It must be impressive, if it contradicts how things stand now."

Bond was stock still, eyes wide. _Damn_, he had caught on. But in the end he would at least still have somewhere to stay and that was what mattered for now.

"It is a rather lengthy walk to my hotel. But I'm sure you can handle it. How old are you Bond?"

Bond smiled, "A lady never tells."

Lucius looked at him. "You are no lady."

Bond's smile didn't falter. "In that case, I'm sixteen, but I'll be seventeen come the end of July."

Lucius nodded, and thought, "_He's two months older then Draco."_ Bond didn't appear to be only two months older then Lucius's son. He had a maturity that Lucius suspected Draco would never possess. Unlike Draco, who demanded he was the center of attention, something about Bond drew your attention without him putting any effort into attaining it. It was his calm coolness, and his wit.

He wasn't an average sixteen year-old boy, and he gave as little about himself away as he could get away with. He was like no other muggle Lucius had even met. In fact, he was nearly positive that this boy couldn't be a muggle, yet he had no magical aura, and being under age the trace should have been on him.

Bond was becoming despondent, and he looked exhausted. His face held a more pinched and unhealthy look then it had earlier. He had a slender build, but had of late obviously not been eating enough.

Finally the hotel came into view. Bond was barely aware of his surroundings. He did realize that this hotel was far grander then the last, and that Lucius didn't have to check in. But he didn't remember reaching Lucius's room. Or falling asleep on the couch.

Lucius had walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. And upon his return, Bond was passed out on the large, tan couch, facing the blazing fireplace. Lucius sighed, and sat at the boy's feet. He was lovely: his tan skin was flawless, and his dark hair was a midnight black.

Lucius pulled off Bond's worn high tops. He ran a hand over the boy's cheek, before turning away. Bond was, after all, only sixteen.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n:** Wow, that took way, way, way longer then it was supposed to. Sorry about that. It won't happen again. I will post the next chapter next weekend.

I would like to thank everyone who added this to alerts, and reviewed. You guys make my day. I would also like to thank Ex Mentis for beta-ing for me and doing an absolutely fabulous job.

-V

Disclaimer: not mine.

All feed back is very much appreciated! Please enjoy!

**Chapter Two: Of Pudding**

Bond hoisted a tray on his shoulder and wove his way through the crowded restaurant towards the kitchen. He wasn't exactly sure what had transpired the night before and that morning had been just as confusing.

When he had woken up, he was on a luxurious couch and didn't want to move. Lucius must have covered him with something, as he had been warm and terribly cozy. When he had finally managed to drag himself off the couch, Lucius was sitting, already dressed, at the large, round table on the other half of the living area. He looked relaxed in the red and cream, high backed chair. His long legs were crossed, a cup of coffee in one hand, eyes fixed on the new paper on the table.

When Bond reached the table, Lucius looked up.

"You may want to check the time. You said something about working this afternoon and you have slept rather late. It seems that your chance at redemption will have to be rescheduled." He tossed the fine blond hair over his shoulder. "Do you have a mobile phone?"

Bond nodded, still dazed with sleep.

"Yeah, I - shit! I gotta go; I'm never gonna make it." He tugged at his hair in frustration. He had had no idea that he had slept until nearly eleven. His shift was to start in less than half an hour.

Bond turned on his heel, grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair, and made for the door.

"I'll be needing that number, Bond," Lucius called. Bond redoubled his steps and grabbed the note pad from Lucius's hand. The blond hadn't looked back up from his paper.

"'Till next time," were the man's parting words.

Once Bond finally found his way out of the Hotel, he ran.

He was flying down street after street, winding through the throngs of people. Somehow he made it…barely. Bond managed to, once again, be on the receiving end of one of the stuck up hostess's disapproving glares.

He quickly clocked in and got instructions from Gina, who ran the bar. It was the hostess's job to run the floor, but Gina was the mastermind keeping it all running. She at least gave the poor disillusioned girl a chance before taking over once again.

Bond shifted the heavy tray that was balanced preciously on his shoulder and attempted to pry the kitchen door open with his foot. He stood poking at the cracked door until one of the waitresses leaving the kitchen took pity on him and let him in as she left. That was something he was grateful for, as he would have gotten it open eventually but this was much quicker and resulted in less broken wine glasses.

He set the dish-laden tray on the counter and stretched. His back had begun to ache. Bond's first shift had ended hours ago and his last was slowly coming to an end. The sun had long since set and he wished he could just go home.

He was about to start washing the dishes that he had hauled in, when he heard his name.

"BOND!" Marie, one of the nicer waitress's, was calling to him over the banging and clattering of the kitchen. He craned his neck looking for her over the sea of heads, and when he found her she beckoned him into the back, which was lined with coats.

He wove his way through the bustling kitchen, trying to stay well out of the way. When he finally made it into the back, Marie was sitting on the low wooden bench, stretching the length of the narrow hall, fixing her hair.

He closed the thin door and leaded against the frame, "You called, Milady?"

She snapped her compact shut and nodded, her thick coppery curls bouncing. "Yeah Max left a message on my cell, oh and you owe me for this, I really didn't want to hear from him again. Anyways, he said I should tell you that he somehow got you another week to make rent; how is the mystery. You have somewhere to sleep tonight." She paused and sent him a sly look, "and, he also mentioned wondering where you slept last night."

Bond smirked, "Did he now? I didn't know he cared."

Marie laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and stood, stretching. "Well, message delivered in full, I should get back to work. Lucky you, your off soon."

"Yeah, but I've been here since about eleven," responded Bond.

"You work too much," she said as she left the hall.

He called after her, "Thanks Marie! I owe you one!"

She laughed and called back, "Don't you know it!" before disappearing back out onto the busy floor.

Bond returned to his sink full of dishes, making quick work of it so he could finally go home. When he, at long last, left the restaurant, the air had cooled considerably from the almost balmy afternoon.

The street lamps gave the dusky, nearly empty streets, a warm glow. Although the hour was hardly late most of the shops had closed, leaving the street empty apart from the few diner goers. Bond never minded the long walk from the restaurant to the apartment. He especially enjoyed it at night. It was so much more peaceful than during the day.

With the soft glow of the street lamps softening the sharp edges of the city Bond had never felt unsafe wondering the streets at night, an odd occupation of his that normally took place at a totally indecent hour.

He fingered the long, thin, wooden rod in his jacket pocket; no, as long as he had this he would be fine. The worn apartment building had come into view, the surrounding buildings towering over the old four story building. After letting himself in, he started up the stairs. Bond and his friends lived on the third floor, in the unit in the back. Their door read "32-C", the numbers tarnished and the 'C' tilted. One of the screws had long since fallen out.

When Bond entered the modest apartment the dull tones of an argument met his ears.

"What do you mean we only have instant vanilla pudding? James, where is the rest of the dammed food?"

Max stood in the middle of the living room, his back to Bond, calling irately into the kitchen.

James' indigent voice answered, "This is not on me, Max." His voice got louder as he crossed the tiny kitchen. He leaned on the door frame and glared at Max, a box of pudding in hand. "We've got no cash; we haven't had any for a while. We ran out of food; it's to be expected. At least we have a few boxes of pudding."

Bond threw his green jacket on the couch, "Is that really all we've got?"

Max turned at the sound of his voice stumbling slightly on the hem of his too long pajama pants. He pushed his square glasses up his tan nose. Dark hair framed his round face, and he crossed his arms looking slightly put-off.

"Yeah that's it, we didn't think there was anything, but then James found the pudding, in like some closet or something." He huffed and muttered, "I hate pudding." James rolled his eyes and retreated into the kitchen.

"At least it's food, how much is there?" Bond asked; he began to gather the plethora of dirty dishes that littered the graying wicker coffee table.

"Yeah, I guess." Max sat heavily on the atrocious orange flower print couch, making it groan in protest. "We have seven, no, maybe eight? Yeah, eight boxes. Enough to at least last a few days." Bond nodded, grabbing the two piles of dishes he had collected and headed for the kitchen.

"Why do you bother?" Max called from the couch.

"It's there, that's why." Bond retorted, disappearing into the kitchen. James stood at the stove; a pot was boiling and on the very short counter sat the infamous pudding. Bond set the dishes into the already full sink and pulled one of the squeaky metal chairs from the small, square wooden table and sat on the edge.

"I really need to find a job," said James, his voice resigned and his back to Bond.

"Yeah, that'd be good. I wish you luck in finding one," was Bond's response.

"At this point I'll take just about anything, it's not like the pudding's going to last long." He had opened one of the more battered boxes and poured the white powder into the boiling water and started to stir.

"How old are those anyway?" Bond asked; the cardboard boxes were soft and full of creases. "I don't know," replied James, taking the pot off the stove and sticking it in the small fridge sitting on the counter.

"How did Max convince the old bat to let us back in this time anyway?" asked Bond.

James sent Bond a very pointed look, "This time you really, _really_ don't want to know..."

"Point well made, _very_ well made."

James pulled the semi-cooled pot of pudding from the fridge and using a bent fork did his best to get it into the few clean dishes he had managed to find. This included a cup, a bowl and a hideous pink floral mug. The Pudding managed to make it into the dishes, all over the counter, and some even made a desperate bid for freedom and landed on the linoleum floor. James sighed and handed Bond the very ugly pink floral print mug and another bent fork.

Bond waved the fork in thanks and bogged off to his room which actually really was more of an over glorified closet. Albeit, it was a rather large closet, but all the same it was still a closet. But Bond figured, rather the large closet then the living room couch. His dresser didn't fit in the small space and stood to the left of the dark blue door in the narrow hallway.

Glad to be able to finally change out of the clothes he had been wearing for the last two days (by now it was really going on three) Bond grabbed a ratty pair of plaid pajama's from his over overflowing top drawer and dug around for a faded, paint covered, over-sized band tee shirt, before retreating into his closet-room. He turned on the lamp that stood on a milk crate next to the door. At the far end of the room was a pile of books that had begun to over-grow its corner and was now spilling onto the floor in front of the bed.

Bond waded his way through the myriad books and clothes that matted the small expanse of floor in front of his mattress, kicked his door closed, shrugged on his pajamas, and left his dirty clothes to join the ever-growing mess on the floor. Then he proceeded to throw himself onto the bed.

He lay back on his now very flat pillows, set the mug of pudding on the floor next to the mattress, and pulled the long thin wooden rod from his sleeve. He twirled the wand expertly in his long fingers. Eyes fixed to the ceiling he was deep in thought.

"Okay, this isn't working any more. I have no money, and soon to be no house. I know I can get in this school...But the question is how to do it... They can't know who I am. That would be no good. "

Bond sat up, the wand clenched in his fist. If he got his way no one would ever know who he was. No one was to know that Harry Potter hadn't died 16 years ago. But that he had been taken away, far away.

Bond flicked his black fringe from his eyes; he couldn't really remember Sirius much anymore. He still sorely missed the man and kept the letter Sirius had left him under the loose floor board under his mattress, along with a few other things he held dearly.

Bond continued to twirl his very illegal wand, a nervous habit of his. He was going to have to convince the Headmaster to let him in for the final year. Fact was he didn't even know if he was good enough to be a seventh year.

This would be one of Bond's more hastily collaborated plans, as term would start the first of September, it didn't give him time to properly plot. Bond could still remember the day he got his Hogwarts letter. It was back when he was still living at Sirius's house. Before he had to sell it, and move into the dingy apartment where he now stayed in.

He had just turned eleven like all first year Hogwarts students and had been sitting in the kitchen making pancakes, humming to himself, wand in hand. Bond remembered having a wand as far back as he could remember and was well aware of its illegality.

The owl had swooped in through the big bay windows that lined the north side of the house. Bond kept them open in the summer letting in the warm breeze; he loved the morning air the best.

He had been expecting this; Sirius had written about it in his letter, the one he had left for Bond before he went for revenge. Bond hastily dropped the bowl on the counter and rushed to the bird, his excitement palatable.

Quickly with fumbling fingers, Bond untied the envelope with bright green emerald ink. As soon as he had his heart dropped. It came to the wrong address. Bond had never heard of this Harry Potter, but he sure as hell was very jealous: Harry was going to Hogwarts. Well would be going if Bond hadn't ended up with his letter. He had sighed dejectedly, shook his head, and tied the letter back to the big barn owl's leg, it wouldn't do for him to take someone else's mail. It was after all a federal offense.

He then sent the owl on its marry way, thinking about how lucky this Harry was. In fact he was most likely pouting to his mother about how his letter was late and whining about how it wasn't there yet. Bond was sure he wouldn't like Harry Potter if they ever met. And then he set off about the many things he had to accomplish that Saturday.

But the letters didn't stop coming. Bond smiled at the memory. The letters had kept coming for at least a week but eventually had stopped. Bond never did receive his own but had moved on, he had enough to think about; he didn't need to add in why his Hogwarts letter had never arrived.

That was until the next year, the letters started to come again, this time there were more, and they lasted longer. Still, Bond paid it no mind, as it went away and he had other things to think about, like the fact he had forgotten to get grocery's for dinner that day.

It wasn't until Bond was thirteen that he decided to find out more about Harry Potter. The letters started the same time they had before but this time they had come for days, more and more came at a time, and more frequently, until Bond was so frustrated that he went to Diagon Alley and looked up this Harry Potter person so he could send him a letter complaining about how the school had the wrong address and could he please fix it as it was rather annoying to have hundreds of letters appearing multiple times a day.

His search, however, proved fruitless. That was, until he came across the name by chance. He had long since given up on finding the elusive Harry Potter and was sure that because the boy was so hard to find that he, Bond had gotten Harry's letters by mistake.

And so Bond had stopped into his favorite place in the wizarding world: Flourish and Blott's. He was flipping through and rather recently published book of the greatest witches and wizards of the time when he finally found Harry Potter.

The problem was that Harry Potter had died 10 years previously, along with his parents: James and Lily Potter. Those names made Bond pause for a second, and it brought back a memory from a time long past. He must have been six or seven but Bond remembered that Sirius used to call him Prawn and had never properly explained why; only that it had something to do with his father James...

Bond's eyes widened at the words on the next page, Sirius was James Potter's best friend, but…had revealed them to You-Know-Who. Bond was so confused, but he had a feeling he should just buy the book and take it back with him to figure whatever it was out, as he was sure it was to be shocking.

When Bond arrived home he started to puzzle it out; Sirius had said he was his father's best friend.

James Potter was Sirius's best friend, but Sirius betrayed James, and got him killed.

Sirius had said in his letter, that he finally figured out who the traitor who had killed Bond's parents was and was going to get revenge.

Bond stopped; this would only make sense if Bond was Harry Potter, which couldn't be true. He remembered getting the faded scar on his forehead, he had gotten it a few years previous when he was learning how to snowboard and took a rather nasty fall. Or maybe it was just hidden until he fell. The more Bond thought about it, the more likely it seemed that he was in fact Harry.

Bonded remembered puzzling over what he should do for days until he came to the same conclusion he still stuck by now, no one would ever know. He didn't want to be famous nor have crazy mad men after him. He was thirteen for Christ's sake; he didn't want to be the savior of the whole world!

He would go to Hogwarts at some point, maybe, if he felt like it. Bond had managed to teach himself a good bit of magic over the years and at sixteen was still learning. This would be his year. This would be the year he entered the wizarding world. Not as Harry, but as Bond, not who they wanted him to be, but who he had become.

And thus a letter must be penned to the Headmaster, some sort of sob story concocted, but that was for another day. For now, Bond, satisfied with his plan, flicked off the lamp and fell into a light sleep.

Friday was one of the days that Bond ended up having off every few weeks and he relished the times he could sleep in. This time however it seemed that he wouldn't get to indulge himself. His cell phone's insentient ringing had woken him. He fumbled around in the dark for the small blue lit screen that was somewhere on his floor. The only perk of being in a closet was it was always night since there were no windows. Finally, he located the old phone and, rolling over in bed, flipped it open.

"Nught...he-llo?" He asked sleepily, pleased he managed to sound at least partially coherent.

"I've woken you then," the deep voice on the other end stated.

"Yeah, uh, you have," Bond sat up stretching, he was awake, he wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night, or was it day?

"I hadn't realized, as most people have long risen by 2:30."

"I…wait, Lucius?" Bond, still partially asleep, stumbled over his words.

"Yes, that is I, are you planning on proving yourself, or shall I ring off?" Lucius asked, his voice bored.

"I'm proving you wrong," Bond said, smirking into the phone. He was leaning against the wall and his hair had come out of its pony tail, falling around his face in messy spikes.

"Alright, I'll meet you at the café, on the corner of 14th and 3rd, in half an hour. Don't be late, I have a meeting to attend later and it won't do for me to be late."

Bond heard the click of the phone and pulled himself from his mattress, grabbing the pudding from last night and taking a few spoonful's before grimacing and preparing to go prove to a very lovely blond man he was not in fact pathetic.


	3. Chapter 3

**An:** Here is chapter three, be expecting the next chapter sometime next week.

I would like to thank my fabulous beta: Ex Mentis for fixing all my stupid mistakes, and to Scifinerd92, who's reviews always make me smile.

I hope you all enjoy, and please any feed back is appreciated!

-V

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, don't own.

**Chapter 3: You are too Bold.**

It took far longer than expected for Bond to get out of the apartment. As he was leaving he found Max asleep face down on the couch. It was the same place Bond had last seen him the night before. James was long gone; he was attempting to get some sort of a job (something that Bond didn't think he'd accomplish, but wished him luck all the same).

Max, as the youngest, was technically supposed to still be going to high school. But more often than not, he ended up over-sleeping. When living with two boys coming home at all hours of the night it isn't always easy to do your homework and go to bed by nine; not that Max was what one would call a model or even a remotely motivated student.

Bond gingerly pulled his jacket from under the sleeping Max, shrugged it on, and started to prod the sleeping boy with his foot. "Up and at-'em Max, let's go. You can still make your last period."

Max groaned, and rolled over, knocking his precariously perched glasses on to the floor.

Bond was short on time and didn't have the patience to deal with Max. He took the opportunity to give the boy a good kick. He groaned and tumbled off the couch. He landed with a thud, nearly crushing his glasses.

"Nughhh... noooo, sleep," he whined, glaring blearily up at Bond.

"No. School!" Bond prodded Max with his foot. Max got up grumbling, until he saw the time. That got him moving.

When Bond left the apartment, he heard Max running about the crashing into things, and hurriedly looking for clothes, books, and his half-finished homework.

Bond descended the stairs, trying to think of the fastest way to get to 14th and 3rd, without having to take the subway. There was no direct route, and he was resigned to probably being late.

Being a Friday the streets where crowded. Bond wove expertly through the crowd, humming to himself. It was a lovely day, unlike the past few days. Although it had been unseasonably warm, dark clouds had hung low over the city

When Bond arrived at the cafe it was packed. It was in service and school had let out early; it didn't look like Max would make the last class after all. The cafe was clogged with students, all talking obnoxiously loud about plans for that weekend. To his dismay Bond didn't seem to be able to find Lucius in the crowd of people.

He wove through the chairs and people toward the back and there he spotted Lucius. He was next to the lone window, reading the paper, and looking thoroughly bored. Bond carefully stepped over an overly stuffed backpack and headed towards Lucius who, in his general disinterest, hadn't notice Bond's arrival.

"I'm not late, am I?" Bond asked, taking the seat opposite him.

Lucius looked up and carefully folded the newspaper. "No, I suppose you're not. A miraculous occurrence I'm sure," he drawled. "It seems that I have picked a rather poor time for a coffee. Alas, had I known, I would have arranged a rendezvous elsewhere."

"The students will clear out in a bit, they don't like to waste Friday afternoon in a stuffy cafe, especially on a day like this," Bond added, taking off his coat. "Wait a bit and the place will be empty."

Lucius nodded, choosing not to speak over the din. Bond was right, the cafe did empty leaving the two of them with a few other quiet patrons.

Lucius was lounging, coffee in hand, totally at ease. "Did you managed to get back into your apartment?" he asked.

"Yeah, Max somehow convinced the old bat to let us back in; I'm pretty sure I don't want to know how he did it," said Bond, taking a sip of his coffee, reveling in the rich taste. "But," he continued, "that doesn't mean anything. We could be back out tomorrow on one of her whims."

The blonde nodded, "I see,"

Bond wasn't really sure what he meant by that; Lucius wasn't exactly easy to have a normal conversation with. Everything seemed to move in loops of barbs and twists of logic. Not that Bond minded, he found it endlessly amusing. Still, his understanding of anything to do with the aristocratic blonde man was severely lacking.

"So then, what about you?" Bond asked. At Lucius' puzzled look he elaborated, "I mean you know about me, so what about you?"

"There isn't much to tell: I'm here on business, though I would rather not be. I have no real reason for being here at all. Remaining here for the entire summer is a hassle. You, however, are a break in the monotony…even if you are pathetic," responded Lucius.

Bond rolled his eyes, "What kind of business, anything interesting?"

"No, far from it. I was elected to the board of directors of a rather prestigious school, and thus had been sent, to look into something to do with budget cuts, really very thrilling wouldn't you say?" quipped Lucius.

Bond nodded solemnly, "I don't know how you can stand the excitement, honestly."

"It's trying," Lucius commented.

"Once the summer's over where are you going?" Bond asked, finishing his coffee.

"Home, back to England. It won't be a drastic change; same ludicrous meetings, but I will be at least staying in my own house."

"That's a perk," added Bond.

"Rather, the manor had always been pleasant to return to; I always like to see the gardens in the summer, nothing can compare, but alas I am here."

"Ah, but here has very good coffee dose it not?" inquired Bond, stealing the last sip of Lucius cappuccino

"Yes it is quite good, and the company is at least engaging. What it lacks in poise it makes up for in shear cheek."

Bond laughed, "I'm not sure if that was a compliment or not, but I'll take it." Lucius inclined his head, "Do as you will."

The conversation was interrupted by Bonds phone. He sighed, smiled apologetically at Lucius, and pulled it from his jacket pocket.

"Hello?"

"Hey-go Bond!" the voice crackled over the cheap speakers.

"Max?" Bond asked, the poor reception distorted the voice beyond recognition.

"Yeah...Who else would it be?"

"No idea. Whaddaya want?" asked Bond annoyed.

"No need to get pissy, god. James and me-" Max was cut off, Bond heard a thwack, and heated arguing before Max returned to the line. "Okay, fine. Didn't need to fucking hit me. As I was saying, James and I were wondering if you could do some life blood shopping, i.e. get some food."

Bond sighed and looked over towards Lucius, who was reading the paper, "Look, I would Max, but I can't. You know that." a great rush of static met Bond's ear, as Max heaved a huge sigh.

Bond wasn't pleased at all. Max knew he didn't have any money. A fact Bond didn't really want to remind Lucius of.

"Look," Max started, "I know we're short on cash, but can't you just get what's really important, like coffee. And other necessities, we all know how utterly repulsive that pudding was. Hold on for a sec." Bond could hear muffled muttering for a moment, before Max added, "even James admits it was grotesque!"

"Max, dear," started the exasperated Bond, "there is nothing I can do about this, comprende'?"

Max wasn't ready to give up just yet, "No, but-" but Bond quickly closed his phone, effectively cutting Max off mid-sentence.

"Sorry about that, Max is a moron," Bond said turning to Lucius, who, with the return of Bond's attention, had started to neatly fold up his newspaper.

"He is rather argumentative is he not?" quipped Lucius.

"Heh, that's an understatement; he's the youngest. I mean of the three of us. James, my other roommate, is a bit older than me. But Max, he's over a year younger and is still in high school. Well, supposed to be in high school."

"I take it he has little motivation to go, and you and James-was it? Have little time to remind him of where he should be," added Lucius

"Yeah, for the most part, he usually just over sleeps since he's the last to leave, and then ends up making the second half of the day. Well except when he doesn't. "

"I can't imagine he is a teacher favorite."

"God no, they do everything in their power to give him detention. He's there a lot. They almost hate him as much as they hated me."

"Really, I can't see you disrupting a class room," interjected Lucius.

"I didn't, they just really didn't like me. High school was not my forte."

Lucius nodded, pulled an ornate pocket watch from his jacket, and flipped the case open, checking the time. As the watch was returned to his pocket, he spoke, "I must take my leave as I, unfortunately, have a meeting to attend."

They rose from the table and ambled towards the door, as they reached the street Lucius leaned into Bonds ear, "Perhaps I will see you again." As he pulled away his lips nearly ghosted over Bond's cheek, causing the boys dark lashes to flutter closed. He leaned into Lucius, a hand on his shoulder, and soon Bond's lips met Lucius'. The boy ran a slender hand over Lucius' face and tangled it into Lucius' long blonde hair. Lucius, who wasn't expecting a kiss, was stiff. He slowly started leaning ever so slightly into Bond's kiss.

It didn't last long.

Lucius got a hold of himself; stepping back he untangled himself from Bond. Bond had now realized he hadn't made a very wise choice. He looked to Lucius, who in turn was waiting for some sort of explanation.

"I…yeah," Bond cleared his throat, "That wasn't one of my better ideas, I apologize." Turning on his heel Bond quickly melted into the crowd of people on the street, effectively vanishing.

Lucius was left standing distorted in front of the small coffee shop. He shook his head, '_You are too bold, Bond, which is really captivating_,' He thought.

Unable to linger any longer due to his time constraint Lucius took his leave. He was looking for an alley or another out of the way place where he could safely apparate back to the hotel. Had he left earlier he could have gone the muggle way.

He stepped from the crowded sidewalk, into the opening of alley, turned on his heel and vanished with a pop.

Most of the other board members were staying in hotels nearby, or were able to conveniently floo in when they were required. Lucius considered this the ideal. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't been given the option. The Roma Cavalieri, where the meeting was held, was located on the outskirts of the city and was the epitome of wealth and prestige.

When Lucius popped back into existence he was in a mercifully empty hallway; near the double doors leading to the conference room. That day, not only would the budget cuts be discussed, argued over and picked apart but so would the recent hiring of one Delores Umbridge. Dumbledore was scheduled to make an appearance that evening. He was far from pleased with the Ministries interference at his school.

Lucius wasn't pleased either. The man didn't represent many of Lucius's ideals, but for the most part the headmaster ran the school in an acceptable manor. The interference of the ministry might cause the precarious equilibrium that Hogwarts held to unravel.

Lucius was, as always, one of the first to arrive. He entered from the back. The room stretched forwards in sophisticated comfort; rows of deep blue tables lined both sides of the room, high back chairs of the same deep blue were four to a row. As with all meetings name tags were set all along the rows.

Lucius moved to his customary place in the third row from the front, only to find, much to his displeasure, that he had been moved. This was odd indeed. He moved back searching for his seat, finding it near the wall in the fifth row. The meeting hadn't started and he already was ready to leave.

Soon the room began to fill with other board members. After the last few drifted in a few minutes late the doors were locked and strong muggle repellent charms were placed around the room. Thus the meeting began. As Lucius had predicted the first order of business was the budget. All the talk of tax on spell books and parchment were a bore.

His mind turned to Bond; he was at a loss of what to do with the boy. But he would much rather try to figure it out than listen to the witch blathering on about overly priced quills. The boy was bold kissing Lucius in the street. He was only sixteen; still, he was alluring.

He held a twisted maturity that one only gained through experience. He was rather built like a cat, slender, but still strong. He possessed high cheek bones, dusky skin and piercing green eyes. His face was framed with feathery black bangs. Bond was definitely not hard on the eyes. But what to do with him, that would have to wait, the topic had turned to Umbridge.

Lucius had never liked the toad-like woman, and was hoping he had a chance of convincing the Minister to send someone else; anyone else would be better. After much arguing (and a few stray hexes flying about) Lucius could tell that as foul as she was Delores Umbridge would be worming her way into Hogwarts. She wasn't just sent to send back information; she was to take over the school from the inside out. What a pity.


	4. Chapter 4

An: Here's chapter four! I want to thank all of you who review, especially Scifinerd92 and itachisgurl93, as there review always make me smile. I also want to thank Ex Mentis for bet-ing for me, I truly appreciate it. Any feed back is loved.

As always enjoy!

Chapter 4: The Book Shop

That night Bond never returned home. Rather he spent the night wandering aimlessly around the city. He had always been a tad rasher than he would have liked. He was more often than not passed off as bold or daring, rather than impulsive. But in actuality his boldness was more like a momentary lapse in judgment, one he almost always regretted afterwards. Not the bold statement it seemed to be.

Bond started to head back home as the sun began to rise. Max and James wouldn't be pleased. They didn't like his nightly wanderings but had come to accept them and no longer waited for his safe return. When Bond reached the building the sun had risen above the tallest building to the east, and lit the sky with its early morning light.

Max and James were asleep, when Bond quietly let himself in. Max, as usual, hadn't made it to his bed and was passed out, face down, on the couch. His face was firmly pressed into the spine of one of his text books. The radio was still playing softly from under the slanted wicker coffee table. Dirty bowls and cups were piled around the wicker table.

Bond gathered the dishes as quietly as he could and carted them into the kitchen, setting them into the already full sink. He squirted blue dish soap into the full sink and started to scrub a pudding encrusted mug. He worked steadily through the pile. He figured that it was safe to assume he wouldn't be seeing Lucius again. He hadn't known the older man long, but he was able to engage Bond in conversation unlike anyone the boy had met before.

Bond had enjoyed the man's company, and he was attractive, always a plus. Bond would catch himself starting to stare, a very unattractive habit, and would have to quickly try to shake it off and look away. He didn't really have time to dwell on his newest rash blunder. As always he had too much to do.

As it was a Saturday, he wouldn't be working at the restaurant. Instead he would be running the counter at a book shop. It was the job that Bond most enjoyed. He looked forward to Saturdays.

He had planned to use the down time he would inevitably get to begin composing the letter to the headmaster of Hogwarts; something that wouldn't be very easy to accomplish at the apartment. With two roommates, one of whom was terribly interested in everyone else's business.

Bond had a few hours before the shop was to open. He had time to kill, a very rare occurrence. He decided to take advantage of the sun drenched kitchen. He sat under the small window in a patch of warm sunlight reading the newspaper, a mug of pudding sitting on the table. Bond had discovered it was much more palatable if copious amounts of sugar were added.

The front page was a very detailed story about a couple that had been murdered in London the night before, and how odd of a case it was. What really caught Bond's attention, was that it didn't seem likely to be a muggle crime. Muggle's don't possess the power to murder without leaving a mark of some kind. He sighed, it was a wizard crime. He hated to be reminded that even with knowledge and resources beyond the imagination of a muggle, wizards were just as petty and judgmental as the muggles if not worse.

He closed the paper, checking the time. He still didn't need to leave quite yet, but he didn't want to wait any longer. Maybe there would be paper work he could catch up on or new books that would have to be shelved. Bond folded the paper, sighing as he shoved the offending object from him, and took the last few bites of sugar saturated pudding, before putting the empty cup in the sink.

He quietly walked to his room, trying to avoid that one really squeaky bored, which of course was conveniently near the light switch. He once again began to look through his small dresser for clothes. Finally, after digging to the bottom of his bottom drawer, Bond found one of his last clean tee shirts. He made a mental note to do laundry that night, or at least very soon. He pushed the mound of dirty things into his room with his foot, and with some effort got his door closed.

Repeating the trek back into the living room Bond grabbed his jacket off the sofa arm. While Max slept, face still jammed into his geometry text book, Bond left the still silent apartment. He always found it eerie when he arrived home and then left again before anyone else had gotten up yet.

The silence of the constantly noise-filled apartment was disconcerting. Usually there was, at least, someone humming or Max yelling because he once again died in whatever video game he was currently playing; he never seemed to learn that he just wasn't any good.

Bond walked along the nearly empty high street. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee was pouring out of the many coffee shops, making the whole street smell wonderful. The small book shop, which was Bond's destination, was on the far side of the high street, but Bond could see the bright red door of the shop from almost a block away.

The shop was very near to the bakery in which Margo worked. Bond had come to like the loud, confident girl, and often had lunch with her; but lately she had taken to eating with her new boyfriend. Leaving Bond alone, he didn't mind nearly as much as he should have.

When Bond reached the shop, he unlocked the bright door with one of the numerous keys he possessed. He was baffled at how he always managed to find the right key so quickly. Bond closed the door behind him, causing the bells over the door to echo through the empty shop. Bond took off his jacket, hanging it on the rack by the door and turned to take in the shop.

Much to his immense pleasure, boxes, upon boxes of new books were stacked all along the aisle leading to the counter, on the counter, and behind the counter. Bond had always liked the repetitive task of shelving books. As tedious as it was, it always held new wonders, and it was a great way to help forget about the off-putting article from breakfast.

The shop had received a large order that morning. Bond would have time to sort out most of the books before the shop opened, but a little magical help wouldn't hurt. This would give him a chance to get ideas for what to base the letter he still had yet to write on.

Bond got to work immediately, he grabbed the box cutter from inside the counter and he pulled the nearest box to him. He slashed the tape open, and started pulling out the newest best sellers. He flipped one over, skimming the back, and pulled a face; he sighed hauling the box toward the back. It was yet another teen romance something to do with some fantasy creature, not to Bond's taste what so ever.

After he had opened most of the boxes and hauled them over to the appropriate parts of the small shop, Bond pulled his wand from his jacket sleeve; it never hurt to have a little help. He flicked his wand over his shoulder toward the back of the shop.

When one was cramped for time, or had a very large amount to sort through, charms could be extremely helpful. Bond moved toward the front of the shop, making sure the magicked books stayed in the back, preventing anyone from seeing floating books.

Bond dropped to his knee's taking the neat stacks from the nearest box. Every now and again he would flip one over, skimming the back looking for some sort of idea for the tale he would spin. He found nothing, and figured that it was better to make it up as he went, and revise it later than to just not start at all.

"Okay, here we go..."Bond thought, trying to start to compose the letter in his head, " Dear Headmaster..."

As the day continued he had time to start writing down scraps of his ideas, until a rough draft had come together, "Dear Headmaster, my name is Bond Black. As of the end of July, I will be 17 years of age, and would desperately like a chance to attend Hogwarts to complete my 7th year of schooling.

"My training thus far had been spotty, and thoroughly non-formal, and I'm sure I will not be up to par in every subject, but I learn quickly. I'm sure it's odd that a boy who has never attended, nor one that anyone has ever heard of, is asking to be allowed to enter his last year.

"I know there is little chance of me getting this opportunity, but I would very much like for you to consider allowing me to attend this year. I was supposed to attend when I turned eleven years old like all children going to Hogwarts, but have thus been unable too.

"My mother was disowned for marrying a muggle; consequently both my parents were poor, but happy.

"When I was very young, both became horribly sick, and within the year had died; I was placed into the care of my mother's favorite aunt, a fellow estranged member of the family.

"She is the only other family member I have met. My great aunt was getting on in her years, so I was unwilling to leave her to attend school. Despite her age she was a very adapt witch. She has been teaching me magic, and since I have had no formal education I no longer carry the trace.

"We resided in America, and as time went on she too fell ill. She had planned on writing you to ask that I attend for my last few years, but after she fell ill it wasn't possible for me to leave. I didn't mind. Since I was raised in most muggle ways, I had no plan on pressuring my magical schooling any farther.

"She died last fall and since then, I have struggled to support myself and I have failed to make it in the muggle world.

"I am mostly self-taught, but I assure you, I did know what I was, and still am, doing and I desperately want to prove myself, to make something of myself. I hope that my attending Hogwarts will be able to help me.

"Thank you for your time,

"Bond Black."

Bond had opened the shop about half way through his letter, and by the end of the day he was sure it would be convincing. It was rather cliché and cheesy but convincing all the same, at least that is what he liked to think. He hoped it was fervent, and seemed sincere enough to work.

When he closed the shop that day his spirits had lifted from the post-Lucius slump. He was finally getting freedom (or something close). No longer would he have to work numerous jobs, on many shifts to just be able to afford rent. To his chagrin, he was truly desperate to get into Hogwarts; the only part of his letter that was actually honest. This was going to truly be his last hope to become someone worth being.

He wasn't going to learn, he hadn't lied he was well versed in magic, he just needed to pass. To get that piece of paper, that would earn him a higher salary. Something he looked forward to immensely.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n:** Eeeep! Sorry that took so long! Real life ate me, but I'm back with chapter five. I would like to thank everyone for reviewing it makes my life like you have no idea. Also I want to thank Ex Mentis for betaing for me. One other thing I want to mention: Niula, you sent a very informative review, I was originally planning on having Bond in Europe but scraped that idea, as you mentioned it being in Europe are they any placed I forgot to correct the setting? If I have PLEASE don't hesitate to point it out, actually if you see a mistake of any sort please let me know so I can fix it!

Also please please please let me know what you guys think! I want to be able to make this as good as I possibly can, and can't improve without your feedback.

Love~ V

**Disclaimer: Do not own.**

**Chapter 5: Nine Days**

Nine days had passed since Bond had kissed Lucius in front of the cafe. Since then Lucius had little intention of ever seeing the boy again. Bond had been a welcome distraction from mundane meetings, however the facts remained thus: he was rash, common, and still so young.

Lucius started to crave a mildly interesting conversation. Instead he would sit alone, a sarcastic commentary concerning the other board members running through his head. Even that grew trite after a short time. He was far from thrilled. The near constant meetings were not helping his mood.

Meanwhile, Bond as always was working. James was still looking for a job, and Max was supposedly in school, which would soon be out; a time the other two dreaded, as a bored Max never boded well for anyone. Bond was, for once, in a chipper mood rather than his normal sarcastic and dower disposition. He was filling in for an earlier shift and was looking forward to being let off while the sun was still up.

June was coming to a close. The days were getting longer and hotter, and the start of July would bring the fiery heat of mid-summer. Bond would miss most of summer's glory working indoors. And then as July faded Bond would turn seventeen.

He left the restaurant from the back, came around the building, and stepped into the sunlit street. He savored the feeling of the hot sun on his skin, and he crossed the cobblestone street, instead of heading home. Max had asked him to retrieve something he had lent Margo.

Bond looked into the bakery's large window before entering. Margo stood behind the counter talking to a middle aged woman. The woman held tightly to her young daughter's hand. She was dressed sharp, and had a commanding presence. She appeared to be irritated and was telling Margo off. Margo was trying to be polite but was obviously desperate to get rid of the woman.

Bond crossed the threshold and the bell over the plain green door chimed, catching the greying woman's attention. She glanced to the door, and pursed her lips into a hard thin line. She huffed, "Never mind you silly girl, just never mind." she snapped, and turned to leave.

She sent Bond a distrustful glance and dragged her daughter behind her. As she passed Bond she said, "We're going home Mary and listen to me young lady, you are to never associate with people like that! You hear me!" her daughters meek reply was cut off as the door slammed behind them.

Bond and Margo exchanged a bewildered look. "What was with that?" Bond asked. Margo was heavily leaning on the counter, exhausted.

"I have no freaking idea; she came in here demanding all this stuff, and then yelled at me when I couldn't make this special order for her. I don't really care what her problem was as long as she doesn't come back." she paused, "But I feel for that child.

"Yeah, Oh speaking of poor people, Max sent me to pick something up."

Margo looked confused. "Like...what? Not my number I hope."

Bond sat at one of the small, colorful, round tables and laughed at Margo's question. Margo rolled her eyes, and started to close up the shop.

"No, not this time, but god that sounds like something he would do," he said.

"I know! That's why it's not funny." said Margo. She had locked the door, and was wiping down the tables near Bond, "Really though, what did he want?"

"Oh, some CD he said he had lent you. Do you know what I'm talking about? Or was he spewing rubbish again?"

"Oh! Okay, actually, yeah. It's in my bag. You can just grab it and go if you want. I know you have stuff to do." She tossed Bond her huge bright blue purse, "It should be somewhere in the front."

"Thanks," he called after her. She had vanished into the kitchen to start on the dishes. He started riffling through her bag. He eventually found what he was actually looking for, but he did find plenty of other stuff. He found the cracked CD case buried deep in the bag, among a strange assortment of things, including but not limited to: a mini etch-a-sketch, half of a ruler, a yoyo, a few pens, and an ugly rock.

After unearthing the CD Bond left. He had just been paid and was planning on lifting the horrid rule that the pudding currently held over the apartment. Not only was the pudding disgusting, it was also hell bent on not being eaten and often made desperate bids for freedom. Most of which just ended up on the floor.

As Max and James were home far more often they considered it imperative that the reign of terror the pudding held over the apartment end as soon as possible. Bond was just looking forward to real food. Putting a stop to Max's endless whining was an added perk.

When Bond arrived to the grocery store nearest the restaurant, the place was packed. He wedged his way through the automatic doors and grabbed a shopping basket.

Bond fished his ancient, cracked, temperamental cell phone from his jacket pocket. He flipped it open and attempted to turn it on. The screen flickered, lit up, and went totally black, before it eventually stuttered back to life a second later.

Bond was shocked that it not only turned on immediately but that it came on at all. He dialed the apartment number, put the phone to his ear and started to sort through a display of apples, while he waited for Max or James to pick up. Someone eventually picked up, and a bleary voice said, "Sh'lllo?"

"Hey it's me," said Bond balancing the phone between his cheek and shoulder.

He was about to continue when the voice, now identified as a sleepy Max said, "Who's me?"

Bond rolled his eyes and said, "God. Who else? I wanted ideas on what to get at the store."

"Ohhhh! The Store, that's exciting. Lemme get James, he can help. Two secs." Max put the phone down somewhere, and went off to get James. Bond continued to wander around the store while he waited picking up anything cheap or very important, like coffee, or Max's beloved strawberry pop tarts.

Eventually, Max came back on the line. "We're back, and have come up with some pretty imperative things to get."

"Like?" asked Bond as he perused the yogurt.

"Well, let's see, shampoo, that's a must," Bond could hear banging and rustling in the back ground, and the occasional muffled offhand comment by James. "James says we need, bread, cereal, milk, dish soap and juice. The fridge says we need cheese, and chicken, and because James is being a complaining vegetarian and your all lucky and can't hear him, you should get him some veggie burgers to shut him up. Oh and he just informed me we really need toilet paper."

"Anything else?" asked Bond. He grabbed his favorite coconut scented shampoo, from the top shelf.

"Well we figured that because you're actually at the store and we're not, you'll have a better idea of what to get. Anyway, we gotta go. '_Mortal Combat_' is calling. See you in the next life; don't be late.

Bond finished the majority of shopping, during the semi-one sided conversation. When Bond got to the front of the queue after an extend period of waiting he unloaded his basket on to the counter. He was reaching for the cheese when his phone buzzed. As his hands were momentarily full, and he didn't want to hold up the already grumbling queue, Bond ignored it. He could just check it after he caught the train.

He nearly missed the train and sat panting in one of the empty seats. He pushed the numerous bags of groceries under the seat. He pulled his phone from his pocket; the text message on it read as thus:

"_Bond, I would greatly appreciate if you would grace me with your enthralling presents at dinner, and maybe a drink. If you are previously engaged, you're welcome to decline. If you are free, shall we meet in front of, that cafe; we met at last time, at 7. Don't be late. I won't wait._"

Bond hadn't expected Lucius to contact him; however he was glad for the chance to see him again and to make amends. He would be going, and he wouldn't be late.

Bond reached his stop, gathered his things and trudged towards the apartment. He collapsed on the couch for a breather after making it up the stairs. He was content to lie there for a minute and just relax since lugging food up three flights of stairs was generally tiring.

Bond lolled on the couch watching James put away the food and Max excitedly paw through the groceries. Periodically exclaiming loudly as he found something he liked, or didn't.

"YES!" Max squealed in delight, clutching the box of strawberry pop tarts to his chest, "Bond you are a god among men."

"Yes, yes I know I am god-like. But I do like to be reminded how wonderful I am every once and a while," responded Bond, he stretched out on the couch, and put his feet up on the wicker table. A penny hit him square in the forehead, "Ow!" he cried, slapping his hand to the afflicted area, rubbing at the stinging spot.

When he looked up James was standing in the kitchen door, he smirked at Bond and said, " Mustn't let his ego get any more inflated Max, he makes enough of a fool of himself as it is, and Bond get your nasty-ass feet off my table." He disappeared back into the kitchen, sniggering at Bond's look of indignation.

Max, glanced at Bond, "It's true you know," he commented while munching on a pop tart.

"You guys are no fun," complained Bond, he sighed and sat up "Well my dear mortal friends, I have places to go, stuff to do, people to see...bye."

He pushed himself off the couch and meandered toward his room. The heaps of clothes that normally engulfed his floor were absent. Bond stopped outside his door and dug about in his drawers, which were packed with clean clothes. He pulled out his nicer things, and retreated in to his room, banging the door shut with his foot.

He kept his eye on the on the small digital clock that sat on the milk crate next to his bed. He didn't want to be late and miss Lucius altogether. Bond stripped and tossed his work clothes onto his bed, pulling on fitted pants and a black shirt. He glanced at the clock one last time as he grabbed his green jacket and made for the door.

He walked past the paper covered desk, and bumped into the corner causing a stack of papers to topple over on to his semi-clear floor and scatter every which way. Bond paused at his closed door and sighed. He turned and bent to attempt to pile the papers back up and stack them once more on his desk.

Somewhere, mixed in with the mess of other papers was Bonds letter to Hogwarts. When Bond slammed the stack of papers onto the desk, the letter had shifted toward the top and stuck out at an odd angle.

Bond slid the letter out of the pile. He looked briefly at it. He needed to send it as soon as possible. He folded it and slid it under his bed. He was going to have to find a way to send it the next day.

He would to have to leave extra early if he wanted to make it to Diagon alley the next morning before work.

Bond really needed to get out of the apartment if he was going to meet Lucius on time. Bond knew the man well enough that he wouldn't wait. Bond sat on the floor and pulled on his worn converses.

Max was lying on the couch, his legs hooked over one arm. He was propped up enough to look over the couch arm and was grinning deviously at Bond. He was munching on one of his beloved strawberry pop tarts. "So." he started, before taking another big bite of strawberry goodness, "Where ya going in such a rush?"

Bond had finished lacing his old shoes, and stood stretching, "Out."

Max called to James, "Jaaaames! Guess what! Bond is going out!" Max called happily.

James stuck his head around the door of the kitchen and said, "So?"

"Because he also went out the other day, and he spent the night somewhere like a week ago, he must... have a...girlfriend." Max whispered the last part dramatically and nodded, before shoving the rest of his pop tart in his mouth.

Bond sighed, "Boyfriend." he corrected for maybe the millionth time.

"Yeah whatever, same diff," Max said waving his hand dismissively, flopping back on the couch "The bottom line is, Bond gets to go out and have fun. And I have to do homework."

Bond rolled his eyes and opened the door. "Bye." he said as he slipped out.

Before the door slammed behind him he heard Max shout, something totally incomprehensible, he skipped down the steps shaking his head; Max was a moron, an entertaining moron, but a moron all the same.

After purchasing his second metro ticket of the day, Bond realized how quickly his small supply of money was dwindling. Bond could hear the train coming as he entered the station. He sprinted down the stairs, but the doors slammed shut just as he reached the platform.

Bond huffed, and in annoyance kicked the post next track in frustration, they must have changed the track schedule again. He sat on one of the old benches and waited for the next train, all the while bouncing his foot in impatience.

When the second train finally did arrive it was packed with people who had missed the previous train. The ride took longer than normal due to the heavy crowds and Bond had already been cutting it close.

Bond raced out of the metro, and up the stairs on to the street. He could see his destination, but Lucius didn't appear to be there. Bond skidded to a halt in front of the closed coffee shop, none too gracefully and narrowly avoided crashing into the large blue mailbox.

"Bit of a rush then?"

Bond felt warm breath on the back of his neck; he heard the low voice in his ear and whirled about. This time he did actually crash into the mail box and tumbled awkwardly to the ground.

A long fingered pale hand appeared in his slightly dazed vision. Bond took the hand and Lucius pulled him to his feet.

"Deja-vu much?" muttered Bond, brushing himself off.

"You're not very graceful are you?"

"I never claimed to be, but you should give me more credit than that."

"Oh? Should I? I see no reason to."

The two of them started down the cobble stone street side by side,

"You startled me. How often is someone behind you like that; I thought you were a creepy rapist or something." said Bond.

"How is that an excuse?" countered Lucius calmly.

"Okay fine, my bad," admitted Bond, raising his hands in defeat, "Where are we headed?"

Lucius smirked down at Bond, and raised an eye brow, "Why should I tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because it's more interesting not to?" Lucius countered.

"Fine then don't tell me."

"Alright."

"Hahaha"

Lucius looked at Bond, "Whatever do you find so funny."

Bond looked off in space, and then back to Lucius. "It will be more interesting if I don't tell you."

Lucius nodded, in quasi-agreement, "Yes, however you will look like a lunatic."

Lucius lead Bond the long way back to the hotel, taking him through the expertly landscaped gardens; he figured Bond would at least be able to appreciate them as he did.

They wandered through the twisting and turning paths, deep into the garden surrounding the hotel. They stopped in a clearing; a willow stood on a grassy hill to their right. Lucius sat elegantly under the willows low branches.

Bond threw himself down next to Lucius. "This is really lovely. There aren't many places in the city like this."

"I figured you'd be able to appreciate it. It reminds me very much of my manors garden's."

"Oh? You're lucky to live somewhere so lovely, although it does suit you."

"Really, and how lucky am I to have a companion so willing to flatter me," Commented Lucius, a slight breeze ruffling his long hair.

Bond rolled on to his side, and propped himself up on his elbow. He looked down on Lucius smirking at him. When Lucius looked up at the tan boy hovering above him, Bond was drowning in his cool grey eyes. With that long blond hair splayed around his face, Lucius was something else.

Bond lean in close to his cheek, his attempt at being very serious, failed as he started to snigger.

"Hm?" asked Lucius, tilting his head slightly.

Bond touched his lips to Lucius right cheek, "I am tempted to be really, really childish and lick you." He whispered in the blonde's ear.

Lucius dead panned, mirth could still be seen in his eyes, "Please don't, it's not becoming."

"Okay!" Bond sat up, and crossed his legs, and grinned at Lucius.

"You're being childish, as amusing as this is, our reservation is soon, and it wouldn't do to be late."

Lucius rose gracefully. He brushed off his clothes and ran his fingers through his hair. He started down a narrow cobble stone path that led out of the massive garden-like ground and toward the grand hotel. Bond followed close behind, in awe of the grounds and the hotel when it came into view.

This time as he wasn't about to fall asleep on his feet, he was able to marvel at the grandeur of the hotel.

"This is insane," Bond thought, "it's elaborate and beautiful, yes, but dear god; way to be pretentious!"

As Lucius lead him steadily toward the restaurant on the top floor, Bond was exceedingly careful to not bump into anything and stay out every one's way.

Their meal, much like the last, went well. Bond wasn't ravenous as he had been the week previous. And thus was able to enjoy his food without looking like an uncultured maniac.

Lucius appreciated that Bond was able to hold an engaging conversation; the two of them lingered in the restaurant long after most of the patrons had retired to their rooms. Eventually they made their way back to Lucius's suite.

"I am glad you came." Lucius commented, when the elevator arrived, Bond stepped on to the deep red carpet and turned to face him.

"Me to, I was pretty sure I wouldn't make it. I missed my train, and then the next one had about a million stops and was really crowded. It took forever."

"A million? Really, I'm surprised you've come at all, let alone on time."

"I meant that as a hyperbole, although it did feel like a million," Bond added.

The elevator jerked to a halt and the smooth metal doors slid open allowing the two of them to disembark.

"You were very enthusiastic weren't you? Were you really that glad to see me?"

"I knew you'd leave if I was late, and it's a really long walk back to my apartment from that café," answered Bond.

Lucius's suite was large, almost sprawling but managed to remain comfortable. Bond was lounging on the large plush sofa, opposite the fire place, the one he had slept on the first time they'd met.

Lucius sat to the right of Bond, his grey eyes were focused intently on Bond's face.

"I know I am inhumanly lovely but no need to be so totally transfixed, it dulls conversation," said Bond.

Lucius was quiet for a moment. He tilted his head, just a bit to the left and asked, "Bond, why is the left side of your hair in the front dramatically shorter then on the right?"

He carded his fingers through Bond's uneven hair. The left half in the front ended near his chin. While a long piece on the right nearly touched his shoulder, the rest was pulled back into a spiky pony tail.

"How did I not notice before…?" Lucius wondered aloud, and asked, "Is there a reason, or was it mishap?"

"Well," Bond started, sighing, he leaned into Lucius light touch, "There is a reason; it's just a stupid one."

"Somehow I figured it would be. Still what prompted you mangle your hair?"

"I'll tell you," said Bond. He sat up, pulled his leg on to the couch, and turned to Lucius, sitting cross legged. "Our tale starts when I was about thirteen-ish. I was the typical rebellious thirteen-year-old. So I thought I was totally invincible, always right and a total badass, which by the way was all true.

Anyway at the time I still looked like a kid and my face was really round. And all my jackass friends were always calling me cute, adorable, etc. Which as you can image would drive a thirteen year old badass totally mad." He paused for breath. Lucius was leaning against the arm rest, legs crossed elegantly; a small amused smile graced his normally stoic face.

"So I had to do something right," Bond continued, " I was bitching about it to James – my roommate, telling him how utterly wrong it was to be going around calling me cute, and he, like the jerk he was and still is, just laughed at me. Anyway the important part was that the radio was playing. I wasn't really paying attention because I was of course defending my manliness and yelling at James. I caught this little bit of lyrics, anyway it went something like, 'hacks her hair shorter on the left side, cuz if you called her cute she'd be horrified. 'And at the time I was like, ZOMG that's me. Remember I was thirteen. So, I cut the left side of my hair short, and I just kept it that way since. Aaaand that's my story."

Bond had said all of this very quickly and in one great breath, consequently when he finished he was breathless and took a few great gulps of air.

Lucius shook his head in amusement, "That's ridiculous; _you're_ ridiculous! What am I going to do with you?"

"I was ridiculous, now I'm just badass."

"Badass? Really, with that pathetically silly story?" Lucius asked, he had meant it all in good form, Bond didn't take it as such.

He huffed, and rolled his bright green eyes, "and here we go with the pathetic thing again…" He turned from Lucius, not at all amused.

Lucius sighed, he moved to the other side of Bond to face the smaller boy. Bond looked at him, a haughty and very displeased look on his tan face. Lucius ran a hand over his cheek, and down his neck, resting it on his shoulder, and leaned toward Bond, his blond hair falling elegantly about his face. His breath hot on Bond's lips.

"But, that's part of why-"Lucius whispered, before ever so lightly kissing the corner of Bond's mouth, "you're so adorable."

His hand ran over Bond's face, cupping his cheek, and ever so lightly, as not to scare off Bond, he kissed his lips.

It was feather light, so light Bond could have sworn he had just imagined it. When Lucius pulled way, leaning back in to the plush couch, Bond was smirking back at him, his eyes filled with mirth.

"What did I say about being adorable? God, I'm badass I told you!"

Lucius laughed, for the first time since they'd met and Bond loved it. He vowed to make it at least a bit more of a common place occurrence. Lucius kissed Bond again, and Bond relished the soft touches.

As much as Bond would have liked to stay with Lucius on that couch until whenever, he had work, and more importantly a letter to send. Lucius didn't seem to mind Bond's departure, nearly as much as he should have. But it was always hard to tell what Lucius thought about anything at all. Bond was sure it was all part of his charm. He just wasn't sure how, yet.

When Bond did leave the hotel it was very late, so late it was really more like very early. On his trek back to his apartment he was greatly displease to realize that the night had gotten much colder.

After dealing with it, and grumbling, for a little over three blocks, he decided the hell with it. It was three in the morning or something. No one else was on the street and it was cold. Bond turned on the spot, and with a muffled pop vanished.

He reappeared almost instantly outside his building. He shook off the more unpleasant feelings of apparition and did a quick once over, making sure he hadn't splinched himself.

When he was sure that he was fully intact, Bond pulled his keys from his pocket with fumbling, numb hands and walked into the dark and silent building. Underage apparition, yet another illegal act he engaged in far more often than he should.

Bond hauled himself up the stairs, cursing the lack of elevators, stumbled through the dark apartment without knocking anything over or killing himself on the coffee table and fell still fully clothed into bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n:** Here is chapter six- one of my favorites so far. I want to say thank you guys all so much for reviewing, extra thanks to Scifinerd92, I always look forward to your reviews, and to DancingHorses and Amy Ehren for making me smile. Also I want to thank Ex Mentis for betaing for me. I would also like to mention that this will the last update this year, I am working on a million things right now and want to be able to finish them over Christmas.

I really hope you all like this chapter, as It was way to much fun to write, and please please please let me know what you guys think! I want to be able to make this as good as I possibly can, and can't improve without your feedback.

Love~ V

**Disclaimer: Don't own**

**Chapter Six: Snape**

Lucius sat ram rod straight, legs crossed, on one of the luxurious cream and gold arm chairs in front of the fire. His sharp grey eyes watched the orange flames dance behind the grate. He sat still, eyes never leaving the dancing flames, waiting.

The natural light began to recede leaving him in half-light. The flames he had so intently watched turned a bright vivid emerald green. A tall, dark figure stepped from the emerald flames. As his soot covered boots touched the thick red hearth rug the emerald retreated, leaving orange flames once again.

Lucius stood facing the man. "Severus, you're late," he drawled.

Severus pushed his lank hair from his beetle black eyes and scowled at Lucius. He brushed the soot from his cloak and sat opposite him.

"I suppose I am; an unavoidable engagement came up," he replied.

Lucius nodded curtly, and resumed his seat, "Narcissa sends her regards, I apologize for the hasty circumstances of this meeting but I deemed the issue of the utmost importance. Fudge has not considered the consequences of his actions. That woman is far fouler than he could begin to understand. What is going to be done about her?" asked Lucius, his long fingers steeped.

"I am not kept in high enough regard to be privy to that information, although I trust you are aware of the Order's presence at the school this year?"

"I am aware. That will have no effect on the woman, or the Dark Lord. I doubt the school is in any immediate danger from the Dark Lord, however, the ministry poses a real threat."

Severus inclined his head, "Valid observation, I may agree with your position, but advise you it is unwise to attempt to assume what the Dark Lord is want to do."

"I would do well to remember that," Lucius' eyes flashed, "Hogwarts has always held precarious internal affairs, which I am sure you can attest to. She will be turning the school on to itself."

"Dumbledore will not allow the school to fall to one delusional woman," snapped Severus.

"He is merely mortal."

Severus paused choosing his words, "He is a mere mortal as we all are. And as he is mortal, he is fallible."

"Bravo Severus, thinking for yourself."

Severus snarled at the impassive Lucius.

"He has revealed to the students of the Order's presence at the school. There are enough fool hardy students with death wishes as it is, without them trying to join the Order," continued Severus.

"Those students would end up in compromising positions anyway."

Severus quirked an eyebrow, "He has also agreed to a most peculiar request."

"What sort of request? Is it related to the woman?" inquired Lucius.

"It may; Dumbledore received a letter from an outcast member of the Black family requesting that he be allowed to attend Hogwarts for his final year of school."

"Dumbledore agreed to this?" asked Lucius incredulous, unable to believe it.

"Yes he did, the boy will be attending Hogwarts this term," said Severus.

"Did Dumbledore give a reason for such an action?"

"No he did not," curtly responded Severus.

"And what is the boy's name?" inquired Lucius, he should have pushed for Draco to be sent to Durmstrang.

"His name is Bond Black, odd name is it not?"

For a split-second Lucius froze, his glass of wine posed at his lips.

Severus continued, "Apparently he was on the fringe of the Black family. His mother married a muggle, and death seemed to favor the family, and thus he ended up alone at seventeen. Dumbledore doesn't trust the boy, but thinks it best if he comes to the school where he can be watched."

Lucius nodded somewhat numbly, Bond was far better at whatever game he was playing than Lucius had first assumed.

Severus' dark eyes bore into Lucius, "So it seems you've found a way to entertain yourself while you've been away," Severus sneered, "Narcissa has asked me to request that you return home to see Draco off; I'm sure you'll be able to tear yourself away for that."

Lucius's grey eyes blazed at the jibe, but he didn't rise to the bait.

"I will be seeing my son off." answered Lucius coldly.

"I didn't doubt you would," Severus stood nodding stiffly, "I think that is all."

"Until next time…"

Lucius sipped his wine. Severus vanished into the once-more green flames. Lucius sat alone in his suite. Eyes on the fire, he realized this was far more complicated then he would have liked.

All was calm. Max and James had gone on some crazy adventure with their mutual friend Ian, leaving the apartment to Bond. He wasn't complaining one bit. He was currently upside down, his legs hooked over the back of the orange couch.

His dark hair was down, fanned out around his face. He was intently focused on the seventh year charms book he was reading. He hadn't moved in hours, save for turning the page, or taking a sip of his now-lukewarm tea.

Bond groped around somewhere to his right for his tea, nearly toppling it over. He pulled the cup to his chest and awkwardly sat up, took a sip and set it down somewhere behind him.

He had sent off his letter to Hogwarts weeks previous, he hoped that the response would arrive soon as September was drawing steadily nearer. During his uneventful trip to Diagon Alley he had picked up various books he figured would be useful over the school year, nearly obviating the small savings he had started to gather. Bond's concentration was shattered when he heard a faint tapping on the dirty living room window.

Bond bolted up right, tossing his book onto the pile on the table; the whole pile fell over and crashed on to the floor. Bond scrambled to the window. A large grey owl stared through the dingy glass at him.

He closed his eyes to ground himself, took a great gulp of air and wrenched the window open. The owl landed on the narrow window sill and hooted reproachfully at Bond for making her wait. The owl dropped the large cream envelope onto the table in front of the window.

Bond picked up the thick creamy envelope and rubbed the rich parchment between his fingers; slowly he turned it over and read the address:

_Mr. B. Black_

_The Smallest Apartment, 3rd Floor_

_38th and 3rd, New York, America_

Bond's breath caught, this was it. He slit the envelope and pulled out the many layers of folded parchment. Bond decided this must be a good sign, or at least he hoped it was. He unfolded the top sheet, it read:

_Dear Mr. Black,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September the first. We await your owl no later than August the twenty seventh._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Bond dropped the letter. He sank to the floor, heart racing. He was in. They had let him in, and now all he had to do was to get there and then get through the year. Bond sat dazed; he looked over to the window to see that the owl had flown off.

Bond ran his fingers over the thick edges of the envelope, he had gotten what he wanted, he had managed it. He hadn't thought it possible and now for the second time his whole world was about to change. After the first of September he wouldn't ever comeback to this small apartment again, or see Max, James, and Margo ever again.

He also knew he wouldn't be able to do magic from this point on. He was part of Hogwarts, he was no longer a home-school student, and therefore unable to do magic out of school. As either the English or American ministry, it didn't matter which would be tracking his magic.

This Bond knew was a great inconvenience. He couldn't apparate to London, where he would be able to get his supplies, and catch the train to take him far away.

Bond leaned against the wall, and forced himself to read the second piece of parchment. It contained a list of what he would need. He scanned the list disheartened by the number of mandatory supplies. Near the bottom of the page was a hastily scrawled note, one he nearly missed.

_Mr. Black,_

_Prof. McGonagall has asked me to give you a tour of the school during the sorting feast at the start of term. You will be sorted before the tour in a separate room, and afterward will join your house table. I hope this is no inconvenience._

_-Remus Lupin_

Bond re-read the note. A tour didn't seem totally out of place, and he liked that he wouldn't have to be sorted in front of the school, but he did wonder who Remus Lupin was. He assumed he wasn't a professor; else he would have signed his name as such. Bond didn't ponder long; he had more important problems like how he was to get to London: time was starting to run short.

Bond was to meet Lucius and was nearly late again. He'd been distracted and lost track of time. He arrived out of breath just as Lucius was rising to leave.

"You and time don't seem to have intimate relations," commented Lucius dryly. Bond was bent double and panting, he glared haughtily up at Lucius. His dark bangs falling over his eyes.

"Shall we go? Or shall I stand here while you catch your breath?" asked Lucius.

Bond straightened; his breath still short, "Sorry," he said, "I was dealing with school stuff."

"I thought you were above secondary education."

"I never said that, I said my high-school sucked," said Bond.

"Charming, what are your plans for this year then? A different school?"

"Yeah, I got into a school," answered Bond.

Lucius nodded. He questioned Bond no farther on the subject. The two of them walked down the steadily darkening street. The air had a bite the kind that came with autumn. Bond stepped closer to Lucius to buffer the wind.

He would have very much liked to have been in Lucius's suite in front of the fire all comfortable on the couch, and very much not in the wind. Bond pulled his jacket tighter, but the wind cut right through him.

Bond obviously didn't have a proper coat and thus shouldn't have been in the wind at all.

Instead of crossing at the corner Lucius stepped in front of Bond. Who looked confused, until he was pulled into the back seat of a passing taxi.

Lucius pulled Bond in behind him and closed the door with a sharp snap. Bond sighed in relief and relaxed into the plush seat; the warmth of the cab spreading into his numb fingers. Lucius leaned forward murmuring the address to the cab driver, before settling back next to Bond.

"I was fine you know." Bond muttered.

"Of course you were, that's why you're only now getting the feeling back into your hands."

"It wasn't that cold."

"Obviously you don't handle the cold well."

Bond rolled his eyes, and turned to look out the window. The cab pulled to the curb outside the Roma Cavalieri. Bond climbed out and walked past the doorman into the warmth of the lobby. He stood out of the way, near to one of the big potted plants, waiting for Lucius.

Bond inspected the lobby, a sweeping stair case on the right led to the elevators and the second floor. The wide marble steps reflected the light of the crystal chandelier, glowing white. Near Bond was a lounge with two very chic leather sofas inhabited by two girls talking very loudly about their mad escapades from the previous night.

The blond laughed. Bond winced. Her voice was high and piercing, she flicked her bleached hair over her shoulder, her many bracelets clinking together. She uncrossed her long legs, stood on her sky high heels, and walked off; waving to her equally blond friend.

She passed by Bond, her eyes narrowed, and her candy pink lips curled in disgust. She madly flicked her hair and pushed the door open; her heels clicking on the tiled floor.

Bond just shook his head in exasperation, and continued to look around the lobby. He noticed the very serious looking man at the ornate front desk glaring at him. Bond hoped that Lucius would show up soon; he would have liked to avoid an awkward confrontation.

The stern looking man put down his pen and walked around the desk. Bond was resigned that he would have to attempt to talk his way out of being thrown out of the hotel. Bond watched the man approach, when he felt Lucius' large hand on his shoulder.

"Getting in trouble already, I see," muttered Lucius, his steely grey eyes were fixed on the approaching figure.

"It's not like I've done anything," Bond responded haughtily.

"Hn."

Lucius guided him toward the marble stairs. The greying man paused, Lucius ignored him and the stern man turned around and returned to his post behind the huge front desk. Bond was guided up the stairs and into the waiting elevator. As the steel door closed, Bond let out a great breath and leaned against the wall.

"Christ..." he breathed, "I was sure that I was going to have to talk my way out of that."

"I doubt it would have worked."

Bond grinned, "You underestimate me."

"Do I? Are you sure about that?"

Bond nodded.

"Very well, next time I'll allow you to handle it."

"Just because I can doesn't mean I want to," countered Bond.

He held the suite door for Bond. Bond took off his jacket, draping it over the nearest chair and then headed for the kitchen.

"So," he started, "because of me, we didn't get dinner, so I might as well make something."

"I could call room service," said Lucius from the doorway.

Bond shook his head.

"As you wish," answered Lucius, taking a seat on one of the cream colored high backed chairs. Bond ran his fingers over the smooth marble counter, and started to explore the cupboards and the fridge. After rummaging around for a few minutes, he sat in the chair opposite Lucius. He leaned on the table, "Order room service then."

"You've given up already?"

"There is obviously nothing eatable in that kitchen. You could have just told me"

Lucius pulled his mobile from his pocket flipping it open, "You were capable of figuring it out."

The food arrived on two large silver trays placed on the mahogany table. Dinner was eaten in a comfortable smattering of conversation.

Hours later found Bond in front in the fire telling Lucius about one of Max's more interesting escapades involving the police, and a futon on wheels.

"I don't know what Max was thinking. He came home with his huge scrape on his face, and I asked why he had it, so he says ' I got it falling off the Futon on wheels.' I was like, "Futon on wheels?" and he says 'well we were walking to Ian's house after school and we had just crossed the train tracks over the bridge, when we got to the back lot and on the other side we found a futon couch. It was a pretty great couch, and then he just nodded." Bond, paused for breath and continued,

"It took about an hour of interrogation but I got him to tell me what actually happened. So apparently, Max, Ian, and Isaiah found some rope and tied their long boards to the futon. And the three of them pushed the futon on wheels out of the back lot…while the two girls and Sam rode on top."

He turned to Lucius and commented, "I never said they were very smart, and because their all so very intelligent they started running up and down Main Street pushing the futon. And the cops came, and chased them all around town on the futon. But they pushed the couch up the hill to Ian's house and hid there. The cops never found them, I have no idea how the hell they managed to out run the cops with a futon strapped onto three long boards but if anyone could do it, it would be them."

Lucius smiled, "You friends are amusing."

"Yeah, they are until you try living with them," Bond said, "But I guess when I leave I'll miss them and all their shenanigans."

"Where are you going exactly, you told me you were going to school, are you leaving New York?" asked Lucius

"I got accepted at this private boarding school in London."

"And you are planning on finding a way to London."

"Yeah I am; I have friends in the city, so I was going to go over a few weeks early and stay with them. School doesn't start until the second week of September."

"Do your room mates know your leaving?"

"Not yet. Their hitchhiking to DC; I'll be gone before they get back, and it's not like they have a phone. I was going to leave a note. I still have to figure out how I'm going to afford to fly to Europe. Anyway, when do you get to go back home?"

"Wouldn't call it that, but I do look forward to returning home, but I have been meaning to tell you that I am departing tomorrow."

Bonds eye went wide, "Tomorrow? I…well-" -He wasn't sure what to say.

Bond sat numb, over the course of the summer he had, against his better judgment (and best intentions), become rather attached to Lucius.

"But," Lucius kissed his cheek, "One of the board members was taken ill."

"Mhm." responded Bond, eyes closed leaning into Lucius chest, he wasn't happy with this situation at all.

"His seat on the flight to London is free, I'm sure I could arrange for you to be in that seat."

Bond sat up and stared at Lucius, "I can't ask you to do that-I mean."

"Bond. Just say thank you."

"Thank you."

Bond leaned into running his figures over Lucius pale skin, threading it into his fine hair and pressed his lips to Lucius firmly. Leaning against his solid chest Lucius pressed back in to a heated kiss, and pushed Bond back on to the wide sofa, kissing down his neck. Bond lost all coherent thought.

When Bond woke he was warm and comfortable, when he opened his eyes he could see an alabaster throat, and could feel an arm wrapped around his narrow hips. Bond pulled himself up, so he was half sitting, his hair fell messily in his face and onto his shoulders.

He raked his hand through the tangle trying to get it out of his eyes, He looked down at Lucius, who was still a sleep; His long blond hair splayed around him. Yet to Bond's amusement remained tangle free.

Bond hadn't planned for this. He had become far more attached to Lucius the he should have been, and now he'd gone and slept with him. How stupid could he get? Tomorrow Lucius was going to home to his wife/girlfriend/mistress/lover and Bond would go to Hogwarts. The End.

That's what was supposed to happen, Bond wasn't supposed to actually like Lucius and he certainly wasn't supposed to be stupid enough to sleep with him. He hadn't thought about that since they had first met, and that had been extenuating circumstances.

"To late now, "Bond thought and pulled at his hair.

He shifted backward and with a great jolt tumbled off the bed. He landed in a great heap on the floor. The bed sheet half still on the bed and tangled hopelessly around his legs.

Bond sat on the floor confused. He tried to get his leg free from the tangled blanket, but only managed to flail awkwardly, and crashed into the table next to the bed, cracking his head on the leg.

Bond cringed, and looked over at the looming bed. Lucius was looking over the edge smirking at him.

"You are a menace."

"Oh shut up."

"How eloquent." responded Lucius disappearing back onto the other half of the bed, before standing, and dressing. He glanced at the clock, "The car will be here in a hour."

"The car?"

"Yes, we'll have to leave early to stop at your flat."

"You don't have to; I can walk home and meet you somewhere."

"It's no problem, but I must tell you that as soon as we land I must take my leave. I have a important meeting, and the timeline is close as it is."

"A-Okay. I'll be fine. I'll just call Bridget, she can pick me up."

Bond, was looking around for his clothes, and surreptitiously pulled whatever clothes he could find toward him. Lucius raised an eyes brow and vanished into the huge attached bathroom. Bone heard the shower turn on, steam poured from under the door. Bond shook his head and dressed. He managed to find everything other than his left sock, for which he was still looking- it was a matter of principle! When Lucius came out of the bathroom, fully dressed, hair dry nearly 40 minutes later.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Looking for my sock, I've lost it."

Lucius simply rolled his eyes and walked into the other room.

Later that morning, after the sun had begun to warm the streets, Bond was in the grey sleek car, on his way to gather all of his things, he still hadn't found his sock, this bothered him far more than it should have. Only he had really like those sock and wasn't going to be able to get another pair.

He was distracted from his sock dilemma, the car whisked past the book shop, the one he had spent so many hours in. He had handed in his resignation the week previous and was sure it was going to be the place he missed most in the city.

He only regretted that he wasn't going to have a chance to say goodbye to anyone; he would miss them. Even Ian, who he'd never liked all that much. Once he reached the apartment. He climbed out of the car, "How long have I got, this shouldn't take long."

"You have time." Lucius said.

Bond nodded, and pulled the key from his pocket, and let himself into the apartment, he climbed the stairs, and walked into the empty apartment. The light was flashing on the phone. Max must have left a message the night before.

Bond pressed the square button, and started to clean up the living room, gathering all his books and stacking them next to to the old wicker table, all his loose notes got crammed between the pages.

While he walked about looking for everything he could possibly want into the apartment he listened to Max, voice electronically broadcast through the room.

"Hey, Bond! We miss you, even Ian, but this place is great. Sam took us to some wild party last night-and I'm not really sure what happened, but my face has all these cuts on it- but it was a great party. The phone about to die, so I'm gonna go- but we'll be home some time!

LOVES, BYE!"

The resounding click echoed in to the room. Bond had hauled most of his clothes, books and other necessary possessions into the living room and packed them into one large bag. Everything he cared about was stowed in a smaller bag slung over his shoulder. He stood looking about the room one final time before walking to the door.

He stood in the doorway of the apartment, a bag at his feet. His green eyes scanned the room, pausing on the horrible orange flowered couch, and the grey three legged wicker table covered with books, paper, and video games.

Part of him would miss this dilapidated apartment and its inhabitants more than he could put into words. But he knew he would have no problem walking out the door and never returned. He eyes swept the room one last time, and he hoisted up his bag. He turned on his heel and closed the door behind him with a sharp snap.

He took the steps two at a time, and walked into the street. He crossed to the sleek town car idling at the corner. As he reached the car the trunk popped open. Bond heaved the large of his bags into the trunk and walked around the car and climbed into the back.

He sank into the luxurious leather seat. He looked to his right, and watched his building fade into the distance.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/n:** Firstly: eeeeek I'm sorry about that wait, I totally didn't mean for that to happen. Also sadly as this is the last of chapters I have pre-written so updates are going to be slower, prolly once a month. If I can do more then that I will. However that is unlikely. Thank you so much to every one who reviewed- you guys are awesome and all sorts of cool, and thank you to my beta Ex Mentis. This is sort of a filler chapter- and its the last you'll see of Lucius for a while. For here on out there will be lot more plot.

Please let me know what you think!

-V

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**Chapter 7: In Transit Part 1**

Bond never wanted to set foot in an airport again. The town car had dropped them outside the International Terminal. He'd stepped out and was instantly overwhelmed; people were everywhere, going in all directions. He tried to stay close to Lucius, who led the way into the building, but with the mass of people- all with bulky luggage it wasn't as easy as he imaged it would be.

Checking the baggage required them to stand in a long line, behind a girl who was completely orange and smelled strongly of cheap perfume. By the time they reached the front of the queue, even Lucius had lost some of his composure. Bond was glad at least that he no longer had to carry both of his bags. He figured as long as Lucius led the way the worst was over. That was until he realized that he didn't have a passport.

Bond's face paled. There was no way he was getting on the plane without one, but it wasn't like he couldn't just magic one out of thin air. He _could_ magic one- or at least make it look like he'd magicked one, but that brought up another slew of problems, all involving the Ministry of Magic. It wasn't like he had any other options. He took a deep breath, and tapped Lucius' shoulder. The blond turned, eye-brow raised. "I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be back in a minute," Bond said.

Lucius waved a hand dismissively, leaned against the wall to wait. Bond turned on his heel, and stepped into the bathroom. It was crowded. "Oh of course it's freaking crowded," he muttered under his breath. Finally, he managed to get into a stall and closed the door, He pulled free his wand, and took a deep breath, it would either work or it wouldn't.

He looked for something he could transfigure, and in the end resorted to an old student ID. He flicked his wand, and muttered the incantation under his breath. The ID changed; it now looked like a passport, but that wasn't why he was still holding his breath. He flushed the toilet with his foot, washed his hands and walked out smirking.

He assumed that there had to be another wizard in the bathroom, and since it was so crowded the Ministry couldn't tell who cast the spell. He only hoped that his transfigured passport was good enough to pass as a real one. He rejoined Lucius, and the two of them arrived at customs.

His passport got him on to the plane, and he was exhausted. Customs had been another long line. This time he was poked and prodded, and in the end was pulled off to the side. Afterward Lucius told him it was probably because he was a minor and traveling on his own. Bond glared and dropped into his seat.

Lucius wordlessly sat in the aisle seat, ignoring the noisy people clamoring around them and flicked a stray strand of hair over his shoulder. This was obviously not his preferred method of travel either.

Bond didn't understand how business people did this all the time he'd go mad. He couldn't think clearly and was staring blankly out the window when the plane gave a great lurch and jerked forward, trundling towards the runway. Bond had jumped, gripping the arms of the seat, his knuckles white, and turned looking at Lucius eyes wide.

"You've never flown before," observed Lucius.

"Obviously" said Bond tersely.

"You'll live," drawled Lucius

Bond leaned back in his seat totally unsure of what he'd gotten himself into. But he soon realized as great as his hate was for airports, his love for flying was far greater, as soon as the plane took off his heart was racing and he felt untouchable.

For hours he was content watching the clouds go by, the novelty just didn't wear off, something Lucius found amusing. But eventually the need for sleep caught up with him and he drifted off. He was woken sometime much later by an overly cheerful flight attendant.

"Sir, we've landed and will be disembarking shortly," she said smiling widely, gently shaking his arm.

Bond blinked blearily at her, scowled and shifted in his seat. He was sure she had been talking to him, but hadn't caught a thing she'd said. He just nodded slowly, which seemed to please her as she walked away.

He struggled to sit up properly, and rubbed his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to flatten the wayward strands. His hair defied his ministrations, during the night it became loose and half plastered to the side of his head, while the rest vehemently defied gravity. He wasn't awake enough to care and gave up raking it all flat against his head into a messy pony tail, and decided he'd just cut it all off when the chance arose it was just annoying him and getting in the way.

He looked around the cabin, the other passengers were out of their seats and milling around, pulling their baggage from the overhead compartments and shuffling toward the door.

Lucius was already gone, his seat empty. Bond knew he would be, but still part of him had hoped he'd get to see him one more time. He stood, stretched, and pulled his bag from under his seat. He followed the crowd of disheveled people out of the plane and into the terminal.

Bond hoisted his bag higher onto his shoulder and awkwardly pulled his phone out of his pocket. He leaned against the wall waiting for Bridget to answer; apparently she didn't have an answering machine because the phone just continued to ring, and ring, and ring. He was about to give up when a frazzled voice echoed down the phone, "Hello? Hello? Are you there?"

"Bridget, its Bond."

"Oh My Stars! Bond! How are you? Are you really coming to see me? Better be soon, I miss you."

"Actually I'm standing in the airport right now. Got a lucky break. I'm in Terminal 65A, think you could come pick me up?"

An exited shriek echoed down the phone. Bond smiled and held the receiver a good foot from his ear; God he'd missed Bridget.

"I'll be there as soon as possible, meet me out front. Look for a yellow mini! Tootle-pip!"

Bond closed his phone and started to look for the way to the parking lot. He went up, then down and back up an increasingly great number of stairs. After he passed the same cafe for what he was sure was at least the third time he went in to ask for directions.

After only taking one wrong turn he ended up standing outside of the huge grey building. He was looking for somewhere to sit and wait; he heard Bridget's voice calling to his through the crowd. He turned searching for her vivid red hair and was nearly bowled over; he received a face full of frizzy red hair while short arms wound around his neck.

She hugged him tight and planted a big sloppy wet kiss on his cheek. She grinned at him her freckled nose very close to his. He smiled and looked into Bridget's pale freckled elfish face; her big blue eyes sparkled, while she grinned at him.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey yourself."

She jumped down, her diminutive height reaching his shoulder, and grabbed one of his bags. "Well let's get going. I've got a house full of people for you to meet and fall in love with."

She started towards the parking lot, although she was short she was fast, and Bond practically had to run to keep up. She was busy chatting happily. She led him across the parking lot, towards her car.

"How long until you head off to your fancy-pants boarding school?" she asked.

"About a week; you don't mine if I stay that long do you?"

"Hell no! Only a week - that's gonna go mad fast - we're going to have all sorts of fun!"

"Am I going to like this fun?" asked Bond climbing into the passenger seat of the mini, his bag shoved under his feet.

Bridget heaved the other larger bag into the back on top of the massive pile of stuff crammed into the back seat. She swung her petite body into the car and slammed the door.

"Are you sure this thing is safe Bridg?"

"It's safe; I'm still alive - so no worries."

"Oh how reassuring, that's exactly what I wanted to hear," muttered Bond.

Bridget laughed, and peeled out of the parking lot, and onto the interstate. Bond had forgotten about her lead foot, and at the moment was wondering how he'd ever managed to block such an experience from his mind.

"Can we just talk about how excited I am right now!" she chipped.

He just held tighter to the door.

After many harrowing minutes they arrived somewhere in the vicinity of Bridget's house. It was at the end of the street and unlike the other neat houses on Wisteria Walk it stuck out like a sore thumb. The rest of the houses on the street had neat front lawns and white fences. To say the least Bridget's did not.

Outside of the house a small crooked sign was pounded haphazardly into the ground near the driveway. Whatever was written on it was totally incomprehensible, what it most resembled was smeared Russian.

Bond continued towards the house and asked, "Why is half the house purple?"

"Don't even worry about it - Elsa and Seth decided to paint the house over the summer and then I came home one day and there purple all over the place. So then they went back to Collage and never finished and I was like oooooooo why would they ever," she explained enthusiastically before leading him into the house.

Bond was beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea. By the end of the week he'd realized what sort of idea it had been- a bad one. He did enjoy Bridget and her large number of overly enthusiastic and abet odd friends company but was only capable of taking so much. Some form of sleep was what he considered a requirement to survive- one that currently wasn't being met.

He was leaving for Hogwarts the next day, and still needed to fetch his supplies from Diagon Alley, he decided- last minute to protect what was left of his sanity that rather than to return to Bridget's house full of crazies he'd spend the night at the pub at the end of the Alley.

Bond left relatively early before eleven O'clock, to miss the early afternoon kitchen brawl, and to prevent anyone preventing his escape.

The Leaky Cauldron was sandwiched between and record shop and clothing store; looking all the more dingy next to two modern stores. Bond stopped at the bustling pubs bar, he exchanged a quick greeting with Tom the toothless bar man, procured a room for the night and sidled off towards the back ally slipping a old heavy key into his jacket pocket. He pulled out his dubious wand, tapped a brick and stepped through the arch way into Diagon Alley.

He wove through the mass of students easily, as he had little money and he wanted have some left for the school year he wanted to buy as little as possible and bemoaned the number of mandatory objects on the list he'd pulled from his pocket.

He worked quickly and efficiently. He wanted to spend the rest of the day reading to try to get a grip on whatever he was going to have to learn. Although he didn't linger even in Flourish and Blotts (it had been tempting) most of the afternoon had slipped away.

Bond rushed into Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions arms laden with books, and potion ingredients. He dropped his things in one of the large squishy arm chairs and fell in to another to wait for Madame Malkin to finish with her current customer. He ran his fingers through his hair, he was exhausted, the lack of sleep was catching up with him, it was tugging at his corner of him mind, and drove him crazy. He unable to think straight and all he wanted was for the afternoon to end so he could sleep.

The bell over the shops blue door rang out echoing through the shop, Bond looked up; a bushy haired girl stood in the doorway, her back to the shop she laughed and waved. The door fell closed behind her, she turned and smiled at Bond. She sat primly to his right and smoothed her skirt, "Excuse me, are you the transfer student?" she asked, head tilted to the left, "It only I've never seen you before."

He smiled crookedly, "Yeah I'm the transfer, I'm Bond."

She held out her hand shaking Bond's, "I'm Hermione Granger, Professor McGonagall told me all about you, Bond's sort of an odd name isn't it?"

Her eyes went wide and she blushed a pretty pink, Bond laughed.

"It's an awful name, really it is."

"Sort of like a James Bond?"

"Only not so cool, but it makes for a great conversation starter. Hermione you're head girl aren't you? Professor McGonagall mentioned that you were really knowledgeable about the school, and was wondering if you could give me some basics."

Hermione flushed with pride, "Well I am head girl and I'll try to help however I can. Well let's see, for basics the school in broken into four houses, they're sort of like dorms. You live in your house dormitory, eat with them at meals, and got to lessons. Also you can earn or loose points or play on the house Quidditch team. The four houses are Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Each are named after one of the four founders and are known for an attribute of one of the founders. Ravenclaw's are witty and studious, Gryffindor's are brave and loyal, Hufflepuff's are kind and hardworking, and Slytherin's are sly and ambitious. I'm in Gryffindor, my friend Ron says that it's the best house but they're all good really, even Slytherin," she finished slightly out of breath.

"What's wrong with Slytherin," asked Bond mildly interested.

"Well nothing really, it's only most of them are not the nicest-"

Bond raised and eye brow, she rolled her eyes, "Oh fine their all utters bastards. It's also the house that has turned out the darkest wizards including You-Know-Who. But that doesn't mean every one's bad!" she added quickly.

The two of them chatted about other unimportant school related things like the liberation of the house elves until Bond was called for his robe fitting. He liked Hermione she was bright and interesting it didn't seem like she got a chance to shine very often. Before he left she awkwardly asked if he would like to meet up the next morning to go to the station together. So she could show him how to get onto the platform.

He readily agreed, he was glad at the chance to see her again. He wanted to see what else he could learn about the school before he arrived as he wanted to be at least partially prepared, something that he currently wasn't.


	8. Chapter 8

A/n: Chapter 8- chapter nine will be up relatively soon. Give me two maybe three weeks, it's be faster then this update was. Thank you to my beta, Ex Mentis and everyone who reviewed. You have no idea how happy seeing I have a review makes me-really it makes my week.

Please enjoy~

V-

_Disclaimer: Not Mine._

**Chapter 8: In transit part II**

Bond sat on the narrow bed, his bag to his left. In his hand the ancient cell phone's screen flashed, he had six missed calls. He watched as the screen went black, the battery dead. He pushed his feathery bangs out of his eyes, and ran his hand over his hair, fingers tugging at the cropped strands. He'd needed a change and his hair had been driving him mad. Now it fell just below his ears, the front slightly longer and stood up in all directions in such a manner that someone else would have had to put a great deal of effort into.

He was due to meet Hermione any minute and didn't want to have kept her waiting as he liked the overly earnest brown eyed girl. He knew that he should leave the phone behind, he wouldn't need it any longer, but as he left the room he slipped it into his pocket.

Hermione was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs close to the crowded bar. She was leaning against her over turned trunk twisting her wild hair nervously between her fingers.

Bond slung his bag over his shoulder, took a breath, and skipped down the steps; she looked up and smiled at him when he reached the bottom.

"I didn't keep you waiting did I?" he asked brow crinkled.

"Oh! No, I'm early...," she said shaking her head, hair flying in every direction. She paused, "Don't you have a trunk?" she asked.

Bond shook his head, dropping his other bag. "Nah, didn't think it was all that important, plus apparently they're really expensive and I don't have that kind of money."

"Oh," said Hermione looking awkward, "Um- do you maybe want to get some food on the way to the station?" she asked.

"Sounds good, do you know anywhere nearby?" said Bond shouldering his bag.

She nodded, "Yes actually there's a nice coffee shop on the corner near the station. I used to go with my parents but they're on vacation this year. They were going to come back early but I couldn't let them do that! Still, I'm glad I have someone to go with- Ron's awful with any muggle stuff, honestly he's more like a rock than a person sometimes." she smiled ruefully.

Bond chuckled as they wove through the crowd of people. He helped pull Hermione's trunk as it was gilded brass, extremely heavy and clumsy. More than once when they took a corner to quickly someone was almost sent sprawling into the street. When they reached the cafe it took the both of them to haul it up the few steps leading to the patio.

"That was a lot further then I remembered," puffed Hermione as she sat heavily on the iron chair and fanned her rosy face with a folded napkin.

"It wasn't too far, and at least it's not snowing or hailing or something."

"I should hope not, it's September!"

Bond shrugged. "Are we meeting Ron here?" he asked.

He liked Hermione, she was bright, interesting and just the littlest bit awkward. He hoped she let him sit with her and avoid the awkwardness of trying to find an empty compartment, or sit with people he didn't know.

Hermione pursed her lips and carefully sipped her steaming tea. "No, like I said he's rubbish with anything muggle. I fear he wouldn't be able to handle it and make a fool of himself, and me. I'll just meet him on the train-oh you should sit with us! I mean if you want to, it's hard to find a compartment for yourself..." she trailed off looking distinctly red.

"That'd be great, but I'll probably just sit in the corner and read my potions text book anyway."

"Really? I thought I was the only one who would try to get a head start," she said. "Have you started any of the others?"

"Eh, sort of. I read some of the defense book last night but it seemed pretty worthless actually, which was too bad. I think defense is pretty interesting. I'm awful at potions-never had much practice so I figured reading ahead couldn't hurt. At least I'd know what I was trying to do…sort of. Theoretical stuff isn't my strongest point either actually."

"Really? I find that if you understand the mechanics behind the casting it makes the spell easier, like understanding what you're trying to accomplish, why it should work."

Bond smiled, as she continued to explain why spell theory was so important, and that it was totally taught or appreciated. He really only understood half of what she said; once he had got her started she didn't want to stop talking. She seemed happy to have someone listening to her, and although he had no clue about ancient runes, a passion of Hermione's, she was engaging.

He listened to her ramble thought breakfast, and on their way to Kings Cross station. As they neared the station she switched topics mid-sentence with practiced ease. "It's a totally rubbish subject- teacher's mad and it had no base on reality what so ever- oh! We're here! I should tell you how to get onto the platform. It's simple really; all you have to do is walk toward the wall between barriers 9 and 10. It will feel like you'll crash but you will just go through to the school platform. They used a cleverly modified disillusionment charm, I was reading about it at the end of last year. I never got to finish before term ended- MERLIN'S PANTS! Would you look at the time!"

She grabbed Bond's arm and hurriedly dragged him thought the train station, her trunk rattling after her.

They arrived on the platform with minutes to spare; they stood panting off to the side away from the mob of milling students.

Hermione was bent over, her brown hair had frizzed all around her cherry red face. Bond was the first to catch his breath. He tapped her on her shoulder and said, "We should get on the train- you wanted to find Ron and if we don't hurry the compartments will fill up."

She nodded, wheezing all the while, and said, "Alright, this way." Again she firmly gripped his arm and led him resolutely through the crowd of students. She walked toward the back of the train; the farther back they went the more the crowd thinned.

She stopped behind a trio of second years forcefully trying to get a trunk into the train. The trunk was wedged very tightly in the door and from where Bond stood it didn't look like it was going anywhere fast.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly…they should know better. This is ridiculous, I've got to do something." She bustled forward, her voice sharp and commanding. Bond turned and listened amusedly with one ear while surveying the crowd. The platform was filled with an impressive number of people, and Bond found that the scarlet engine of the train was a beautiful touch to the atmosphere, adding to the contagious excitement.

Bond's eyes flicked from eager face to eager face in the crowd with mild interest. Then out of the corner of his eyes something caught his attention. He turned, he was sure he was wrong, but he had to look just to be positive. "Fuck," he breathed.

Lucius stood near the other end of the train, a slender blond woman on his arm. Her head was held high and her grey eyes observing the crowd with various degrees of disgust. She commanded attention and my god she was beautiful. She must be his wife. And he must have a child somewhere, to constitute his presence.

Bond scanned the crowd, it didn't take long to find Lucius's son. He had the same sharp aristocratic features as his father, same grey eyes, and he held Lucius's casual arrogance- but he wasn't able to achieve the desired effect.

Bond tugged harshly on his hair. That was Lucius son, who just boarded the train, the same train that Bond would have to board in a moment, the boy who was going to Hogwarts where Bond would have to see his pale pointed face that looked so much like his father's. But fuck- he wasn't Lucius.

It was then that Bond considered if only for a moment giving up and going home. That idea was quickly dismissed- he was on the ministries radar now, there was no going back.

Bond couldn't tear his eyes away, he watched the woman, Lucius's wife, touch his arm and guide him away from the train and out of sight. Bond let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, Hermione appeared at his shoulder, a satisfied look on her face.

"Sorted the little idiots out then?" asked Bond, somewhat shakily, she nodded very pleased with herself. "Yes I did, we should get on and find a compartment, the trains leaving any minute."

Hermione guided Bond onto the train and into a large squishy red seat. She looked him directly in the eye and said, "Alright, spill."

Something about her warm brown eyes made it impossible for Bond to not tell her, and so he gave an abbreviated version of the circumstances that brought him to be sitting in front of her, and she just sat and listened intently. He had never liked someone more then he liked Hermione in that moment.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: Slytherin's **

**A/n** Sorry for the long wait. Thank you all for reviewing and sticking with me. I think there is a problem with my doc. x- I don't know honestly. Since it's been so long this chapter is un-beta-ed, as soon as I get the beta-ed version I will remedy this. In the mean time please point out any error you find so I may fix them. I will try and have the next chapter up in the next week or so. As always please review and tell me what you think!

-V

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.**

Hermione took it better than expected, she didn't even scold him- much about sleeping with an older married man. Their conversation was brought to an end when the compartment door slid open. A gaggle of students stood behind the tall red head in the doorway. "Hermione, I've been looking all over for you!" he said.

He walked into the compartment, and took the seat closest to the window, the others crowded in after him. "Oh, I'm sorry," said Hermione, she turned toward the red head, "Ron this is Bond, he's the new transfer."

Ron absentminded nodded in recognition, and looked back out the window at the field speeding by, leaving Hermione to awkwardly introduce Bond to the others. Ginny, Ron's sister was the other ginger, Lavender her simpering friend- it was obvious she was mad for Ron, (He gave her no notice), and Neville was the slightly chubby, shy brunette.

Bond was on the whole less then impressed with the with lot, Hermione who he quite liked didn't seem herself around the group. She lacked Ginny's blunt confidence, and Lavender's overly feminine qualities. Neville blended into the back ground and was overlooked, he settled in the comer with a book- which is what Hermione looked like she would have liked to do.

She didn't have anything in common with the lot. Bond didn't think that this was bad thing, there wasn't anything wrong with them, other than they reminded Bond of people at his old school. The one's he didn't like-mostly because they didn't like him. Ron, the bumbling quarterback and Ginny the head cheerleader.

Bond soon fell out of the conversation. He wasn't familiar with the conversation topics and had nothing to contribute, but he listened. He needed to learn all he could about the wizarding world. Bond as hard as he might try he wasn't able to focus for long. His mind drifted, he was just so sleepy, he couldn't keep his eyes open and fell asleep.

He woke hours later, outside the compartment was dark, the hanging gas lamps illuminated the compartment in warm light. Bond lay against the door eyes closed, mind still foggy, Ginny was talking-loudly. "I think he's boring. God all he's done is sleep," she huffed.

"I like him, he's interesting," said Hermione indigently.

Bond tended to be far less civil when half asleep sat up his green eyes narrowed, "I can go if you'd like." He stood, brushed his feathery bands out of his face, and stretched. It was the first time that Ginny got a good look at his face, she blushed and stuttered, "n-no, its fine please stay." While Hermione looked pleadingly at him from the other end of the seat.

The door snapped open before Bond could make his exit, standing in the doorway was Lucius's son. Ron glared,it was apparent they were not friendly.

"Malfoy," Ron hissed eyes narrowed, the others moved as to back him up. Bond stood between the glowering Ron and boy in the door way.

The boy-Malfoy looked passed Bond, "Weasel-be, I wondered what that smell was."

Ron growled.

Bond thought they were both ridiculous.

The tan boy behind Malfoy asked, "Draco are we going in or not?"

"No, Blaise we're not it's full of trash," replied Malfoy slamming the door closed the glass rattling in the frame.

Bond, moved to follow, he grabbed his bags, snapped the door open, "I'll see you later Hermione," he said over his shoulder.

He stood in the hallway swaying with the train, contemplating his plan of action. He knew the cars near the front of the train would be full, so his best bet in finding an empty one was near to the back. The next car back was completely full, and the one behind that had all of its compartments occupied, and then he reached the end. So much for sitting alone. Bond stood at the back of the train and picked a door at random and slid it open.

The only occupant sat by the window reading, he looked up when the door opened.

"Can I sit here? The rest are full," said Bond.

The boy nodded. He was slender and fair with freckles sprinkled over his nose. He had blue eyes and sandy hair that fell just above his eyes. The boy returned to the book propped open in his lap. Bond wasn't put off in the slightest, he wanted to get some reading done as well. He sat near the door as to give the other privacy. They sat quietly reading as the sky grew darker.

"Excuse me," said the other boy, his voice soft, "are you the transfer?"

Bond looked up, "yeah, I am. I'm Bond black."

The boy tried to suppress a snort but failed.

"It's an awful name, but it could be worse at least its not boring like say- Dudley, or something," said Bond.

The boy nodded, "That's true, I'm Theodore Nott, but please call me Theo, it more practical,"

"Charmed, you wouldn't happen to know how long until we arrive would you?"

"Not much longer, an hour at the most. If you don't mind me asking, why you joined me so late?"

"I was farther up, I wasn't particularly welcome, I didn't mind leaving most of them made lousy company," said Bond shrugging.

"Who were you sitting with?" asked Theo

"A girl I met yesterday- Hermione. I like her, she's interesting but her friend Ron isn't not the most engaging company and his posse's infuriating."

Theo nodded, "Ron's best avoided, most Gryffindor's are. Hermione's alright, I suppose."

"You're a slytherin then," said Bond.

Theo smiled a vampires smile, "that I am."

The two talked easily, "We should change we'll be arriving soon," said Theo, Bond nodded, and not long after the train came to grating halt, Bond gathered his bags, and Theo told him to stick close. As they prepared to leave the compartment door slid open, and in stepped Malfoy, "Theo, I was looking for you."

"Hm. Well now you've found me," commented Theo.

"That I have, who's this?" he asked, grey eyes narrowed at Bond.

"That's Bond, he's the transfer."

The boys exited the train and followed the stream of students towards the line of horseless carriages.

They manged to get one to themselves, Draco sat opposite Bond, "I seen you before," he stated , as they rode towards the glittering castle. Bond hadn't heard him, he watched the grounds flash by, all the while the huge castle grew nearer.

"Hm?" said Bond.

"I'd said- I've seen you before," Draco drawled,

"Oh- you have. I was in the Weasley's compartment," Bond told him offhandedly. Theo's eye brows shot up, asking Bond why he would ever admit to being near Weasley in front of Draco. Who obviously didn't like that answer.

"And why would you ever be there?"

"Actually- not that isn't any of your business but I just leaving when you showed up. You blocked my exit."

Draco sniffed disapprovingly, glared at Bond and looked out the window, the rest of the ride was spent in an awkward silence broken by Theo's exasperated sighs.

When they arrived outside the castle Bond was the first out, he was so far less then impressed with Draco Malfoy, and somewhat annoyed, he figured it was better to make himself scare, than say something incredibly stupid. He also needed to find Remus Lupin.

Bond wove through the students crowding past the huge double doors and into the entrance hall. He surveyed the hall, a stern looking woman stood off to one side- near to the the wide stair case, observing the rowdy students.

"Excuse me, Professor, I'm looking for Remus Lupin."

She looked down her narrow nose, lips pursed, "Mr. Black, he has been delayed, and will be arriving shortly. You may wait here."

"Alright, thank you Professor."

Bond leaned back against the railing and watched the students flood into the hall. He saw Theo and Draco in the crowd with a few others he didn't recognize, as well as Hermione, who waved but was dragged into the great hall by Ron, before she could come over and say hello. The flow of students thinned, and the stern women informed him that the first years would be arriving soon, she stepped outside to meet them.

Moments later hurried foots steps echoed down a dim hall way past the closed doors to the great hall,a tall slender man emerged from the gloom, he stopped in front of Bond, "Sorry for keeping you Mr. Black, got caught up."

Bond nodded, ran his fingers through his feathery hair, Lupin looked at Bond, his head tilted,brow furrowed, his amber eyes flicked around Bonds face.

"About that tour then?" asked Bond

Lupin nodded, shaking himself, "Right, Mr. Black follow me."

The castle had looked huge from the outside but as far as Bond could tell it was bloody enormous on the inside, it didn't seem possibly for all of this to fit into one building. Although he was attentive, and Remus Lupin was easy to listen to; Bond knew that come tomorrow he would have no idea where anything was; he decided that he needed a map.

The tour ended sometime later in front of the great hall. Bond felt his lack of sleep, his eyes burned and he wasn't looking forward to sitting thought dinner.

Lupin guided him into a small room off of the entrance hall. The only thing remotely interesting about the room was that in the middle sat a old, worn, pointed wizards hat, and even that Bond found to mundane- being a wizarding school, old hats were bound to have been left about.

Lupin explained that the hat sorted the students into their house's and all he needed to do was put it on his head, Bond shrugged, sat on the stool and slipped the old hat on to his head and it slipped over his eyes.

Meanwhile, Theo Nott prodded his napkin with his fork; stuck between an annoyed Draco and vapid fifth year girl, he couldn't be sure which was worse. The sorting had ended moments ago, and Dumbledore had begun his customary short pre-dinner speech. To his right Draco muttered a cynical commentary in his ear. Theo wasn't paying attention, to either the headmaster or his friend. He missed the Headmaster announce the transfer student, the sharp jab to his arm got his attention.

Draco snorted, "The transfers a Gryffindor if I've ever seen one, I for one don't see how you could stand him."

Theo sighed, "Stop being ridiculous, you've barely met him."

Neither of them noticed Bond approach the table until he prodded Theo in the shoulder, "Budge up would you?"

Theo, shoved Draco over to make room; Bond sat and happily tucked into his dinner.

"If you hadn't noticed the Gryffindors' are over there." said Draco haughtily.

"Well, as I'm over here I must not be a Gryffindor then," said Bond, he took a sip of pumpkin juice, and grimaced, "that is foul."

Theo elbowed Draco, "guess you were wrong, then Draco."

Draco sneered and returned to his dinner.

The tan boy across from Bond introduced himself as Blaise, and asked, "what did you do to Ron? Hex him?"

"No, why?" responded Bond.

"Oh- no reason he's just trying to murder you with his eyes, is all," said Blaise

"He's not doing a good job of it," commented Theo.

Bond looked over his shoulder, across the hall at the Gryffindor table, Ron glared at him, it wasn't convincing at all.

"He isn't very intimidating is he?" asked Bond conversationally.

"About as threating as a Flobber worm," said Blaise, "oh better hush up, the great one rises to address us all." He nudged Theo with his foot, and all four boys turned to face the staff table at the front of the hall.

A man stood, Bond assumed that this was Dumbledore, he looked to be an eccentric old wizard, nothing like how Bond thought he would look. Being such a renown wizard, Bond had expected something more- normal looking to say the least.

Dumbledore's long silver bread was tucked into his robes- of a unusual color, and half moon spectacles sat on his long nose. But on the other hand, thought Bond, the more famous the muggle celebrity was the weirder they were.

Dumbledore smiled down at the students, and spoke, "Now that you've all been fed and watered..."

Bond chose to tune him out, he was tired and any long speech would just put him to sleep not matter how renown the speaker. Instead he took to watching the staff.

Dumbledore's voice was pleasant and easy to ignore, a soft cough cut through the headmaster's speech. A sort squat woman stood.

She was not at all pleasant to look at. Her skin was pasty, her eyes bulged and her short mosey brown hair curled around her wide pouchy face. The stern women Bond had talked to earlier visibly glared at the toad like women, her lips in a thin hard line.

Obviously this wasn't a normal occurrence. Dumbledore was the first to recover, he looked taken aback for a moment, smartly sat down and looked expectantly at her as if he would like nothing better then to listen to her talk.

Her voice was high, breathy and horribly sweet, "thank you Head master, for those kind words of welcome."

Bond turned and looked at Nott, an eye brow raised. Theo rolled his eyes and leaned closer, "Honestly, if you'd been listening , you would know that, that thing is out new Defense teacher."

Bond nodded and turned back to the front, he doubted she could teach them anything- let alone defense. He felt a powerful loath for her already, she reminded him a bit of his principle from the muggle school. If this women was even half as fowl he would have hated her.

She gave another little throat-clearing couch, ("Hem, Hem") and continued: "Well, it is good ? to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" she smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

A quick glance around the hall, told Bond that no one looked happy; rather they looked taken a back by being treated as though they were five. Still she continued in her high-pitched, breathy voice, "I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

Murmuring outrage broke out at the slytherin table, across the hall students exchanged meaningful glances, exasperated looks and some just sniggered among themselves. Professor Umbridge cleared her throat yet again, however the breathy girlishness had vanished, now she droned on in that dull learned by heart way that all students dread.

"the Ministry of Magic has always..."

Bond didn't bother even trying to pay attention, and she just went on and on, he caught bits and pieces, "for with out progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged..."

By now hardly anyone was listening, most students gossiped among themselves, and a few had fallen asleep. Only Hermione, and a few of the Slytherin students appeared to still be paying attention, and they didn't like what they heard.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity she drew to a close, "Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to preserved,perfecting what needs to be perfected and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited." she sat down.

Dumbledore clapped. the staff-many of them begrudgingly followed his lead only bring their hand together once or twice. A few students joined in, most were unaware of the speeches end,and before they could properly start Dumbledore had resumed his speech- showing no sign of annoyance.

"Blood hell," muttered Theo, raking his face with his hand. That Umbridge women was going to be a problem, that much Bond could already tell.

Draco's grey eyes were Blazing, "How dare they interfere at Hogwarts- wait until my father hears about this," he hissed.

_"Christ- please don't mention your father,"_ thought Bond desperately, he was too exhausted to deal with any of it at the moment.

Once Dumbledore had finished speaking, the students rose as one, Bond followed Theo, Blaise and Draco from the hall, there was plenty of confusion and Bond's foot was trod on more then once while they made their exit.

Draco led the way, stalking toward what Bond assumed to be the dungeons- as they had gone down a great number of stairs. Blaise rolled his eyes at his blond friend and hurried to catch him up. The four of them stopped in front of a stretch of nondescript damp stone wall. Draco didn't looked pleased, ( Bond figured he rarely did), he rounded on Theo, "whats the bloody password? I've forgotten."

Theo sighed, "It's pure blood."

A door concealed in the wall slid open, "Again?" asked Blaise incredulously, "they use that every year- it's a wonder the Gryffindor don't murder us in our beds."

The common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and the round greenish lamps hanging from the ceiling bathed the room in a eerie glow. A fire crackled under a elaborate mantle piece on the far wall, only a few of the high backed leather chairs around it were occupied- not many people had made it back from dinner yet.

Along one wall, near to the fire ran a seat carved into the stone wall, a puffy silver cushion, cushioned the seat,and it was piled high with green pillows. A girl with thick dark hair cut short in an elegant 20's bob. Her dark eyes,that glowed in the fire light, while she lounged against the wall.

She beckoned Draco to come join her in the half darkness, but he ignored her. Instead he stalked up the short stair case towards the boys dorms.

Blaise and Theo, led Bond toward her. As they got closer, he could tell that she was classically beautiful, but had only recently become so. Her skin was was that of winter cream, her eyes wide and evenly spaced. She smiled, her deep red lips parted reveling prefect white teeth. She looked straight at Bond and patted the cushion next to her. He sat.

"Boys," she said smiling, "How lovely for you to join me, on this fine evening. I suppose Draco's run off to sulk, he is such a child sometimes," she tutted, and shook her head, her curls bounced against her pale cheeks, her voice was rich and held a old-world quality that Bond liked.

She eyed him, "Mr Black, I do so hope you enjoy your stay this year. It must have been dreadful with the muggles."

Bond shrugged, "I'd have liked more to eat, but can't complain- wicked parties, Miss-?"

"Oh-! How rude of me," she held a delicate hand to her mouth, her red nails glinted in the half light, "I hope you won't hold it against me, I'm Pansy Parkinson, a pleasure to meet you,"

Bond took her offered hand, "Pleasure all mine, meeting such a lovely young lady."

She laughed, and batted at his arm, "Oh- you, flatter me, see boy's- that is how a gentleman behaves- I recommend you take note," she smiled at him warmly, "why, Mr. Black I do think you'll fit right in."

She soon excused herself, claiming to need her beauty sleep, the boy retired not longer after she'd disappeared into the girl dorm. They kept their voices low, Draco had turned in long before any of them had come up- and knowing Draco's temper it best not to wake him.

The rest of them stumbled about in the dark, getting ready for bed, Bond found his bed crammed between the door leading to the bath room and Theo's bed. As he lay looking up a at the green canopy he spoke voice low, "That was one classy girl."

"Pansy's a real lady- and dangerous, that girl knows how to think for herself, not like the rest of the high society broads, -You know she's taken a liking to you." said Theo

Bond stretched, "Not interested,"

Theo laughed, "You'd be the first to say that."

"Guess I'm special then."

Theo was still sniggering, "Night Black,"

"Night."

Bond lay looking up in the dark, and ran his fingers through his short hair, the strands tickled the back of his neck. he could hear the other boy's even breathing around him. He had made it. He was at Hogwarts for better or for worse, he smirked. Turned out he was a better liar then he'd originally thought, he rolled over and sunk into his soft bed and fell sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: The Man that Escaped Azkaban**

A.N: dear god. It's been a while. For that I apologize. I honestly meant to have this up ages ago. I had nearly the whole thing typed up and then just forgot... Life's been pretty hectic, but that's not an excuse. I'll try to have the next one up by the end of June. I would like to thank everyone for sticking with me, and reviewing.(especially Scfinerd92, I always look forward to your reviews) I really do cherish every review I get. I am still with out a beta so this is un-betaed. Any mistakes you find please point out so they can be fixed.

Disclaimer: not mine.

**B**ond found that living with five other boys- all who got up within five minutes of each other eliminated the possibility of over sleeping. It also meant that the dorm became a mess of half dressed, drowsy morons in the morning. He and Blaise, escaped early and walked toward the great hall together, Nott had already left, and Draco wasn't even dressed yet. he couldn't find his tie. Blaise had hidden it.

"I do it every year, but he never learns- oh Draco what I am I to do with you," muttered Blaise chuckling to himself, "first day, Black- nervous?"

"Not really," Said Bond shrugging, he brushed his bangs from his eyes. Blaise pulled the door open and the two of them crossed the great hall toward the Slytherin table. The hall still mostly empty- save for the few early risers.

Blaise slid next to Theo, he motioned for Bond to sit, "this is the best time to get here really," he added conversationally.

"Oh?" asked Bond, he spooned strawberries onto his pancakes.

"Yeah, the halls still empty, and Nott's here so there's someone to annoy. Plus since we've just beat the mad rush for food, everything good still here, like coffee- ah coffee." Blaise sighed in contentment; he sipped his steaming cup.

Theo looked up from his book, "Blaise please keep the noise to a dull roar,"

Blaise slurped his coffee, "yum, ever so good, wouldn't you agree Theo?"

Theo rolled his eyes upward.

The hall filled with drowsy students, the other tables where nearly full, while Slytherins still trickled in a few at a time. The three boys were joined by Pansy and a sullen Draco. He gripped loudly about how the Slytherins _always_ got the worst schedules.

Pansy sat opposite him, her hair pinned back into a elegant bob, her lips a painted a perfect deep red, she sighed "Honestly Draco, calm down, it can't be that bad," she commented and sipped her spiced pumpkin juice, "what with what we had to endure last year, this year should be nice and easy."

"And when was the last time we got something just because we ought to?" asked the pale girl next to Pansy, she flicked her ash blond hair out of her blue eyes, an eye brow raised.

xx"Hush now Daphne, we wouldn't want to work Draco up into a tizzy this early- would we?" said Pansy dryly

Daphne glared acidly at Pansy, and sniffed but refrained from commenting further.

Blaise tried to explain to Bond that pumpkin juice wasn't gross, it was really yummy, "everyone drinks it!" he claimed

"What infallible reasoning! You're obviously right, I shale now drink up my pumpkin juice and enjoy it- just because everyone dose," said Bond.

Pansy smirked, Blaise opened his mouth to retort, but Theo silenced him, "Snape's handing out the time tables."

Their head of house was prowled down the long tables. The schedules were met without any enthusiasm. Snape towered over the students, his skin was sallow, and his hair hung lanky around his long hooked nose.

As far as Bond could tell he had never smiled in his life, as he neared Bond and the other seventh year Slytherins- he would occasionally slip in a barbed comment long with the time table, (Really Vaisey, one would think you would know how to tye a tie by now.)

The seventh years were less then pleased.

"Four hours with the Gryffindors- on a Monday," moaned Graham Montague, that captain of the slytherin Quidditch team.

Bond received his schedule with out a second glance, but before he could take a look, it was pried from his hand. Theo, Blaise and Draco bent over it

"Just when we think it can't get any worse- it dose," muttered Draco darkly.

When Bond recovered his schedule, he looked it over and said "I don't see the problem..."

"Well let's take Wednesday for example," said Blaise, looking over Bond shoulder, " First we go all the way down to the green house's. And then we have hoof it to history of Magic- in the west wing, then there's transfiguration- on the fifth floor east wing- so that's a pain. Plus the only way to get from the west to the east wing is to take the trick stair case, which has a habit of moving on students. After that it's back outside and then all the way to the east tower. That's a hell of lot of walking. And in top of that we have an Astronomy lab that night- Wednesday's are just awful," he finished.

"We're running all over the castle like hamsters- Christ none of my classes are near each other, god look at Thursday its just as bad," grumbled Montague, crossly.

"We should count it towards Quidditch training," suggested Adrien Pucey, one of the chasers.

"At least we get an extra ten minutes added on to lunch today," added Pansy primly.

Her optimism was over shadowed by, the repeated exclamation of: four hours with the Gryffindors- on a Monday!

Breakfast soon drew to a close. Theo led Bond to his first class, Potions. It was down in the dungeon, with the bitter,sallow skinned head of house, and a gaggle of sleepy Gryffindors.

Two grueling hours later, Bond emerged from the dungeon. He'd never really liked potions, he lacked any real talent at it, but had never had a reason to hate it before. However after Potions with Snape, he had never hated something more. One lesson with the bitter teacher was enough to put someone off the subject for life. He was at least glad he was not a Gryffindor, as they suffered most of Snape's wrath. He was very glad for lunch.

"Is Snape always that much of bastard?" he asked, between bites of potato, she nodded. Bond groaned. 

"God, first day back and we get 13 inches on the properties of moonstone and how to use it," said Blaise, "Draco can you get him to cut us some slack- he's your god father isn't he?"

Bond had already pushed away his plate and scribbled notes for his essay on a scrap of parchment.

"Fat lot of good me talking to him will do, just do the home work Blaise," said Draco, "Oh and Black- Blaise and Theo have ancient Runes next. So looks like it's just you and me for Care of Magical Creatures,"

"Why are you still taking that Draco? I know you hate that class," said Pansy.

Draco shrugged, "it's not that I don't like it, I just don't like the teacher, plus it's a easy O, I could use a few of those this year."

"Should have taken Runes with us, you've always been the best at language" Theo grinned, and continued "but no, you took Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. How dose it feel to have taken the two most worthless classes the school offers?"

Draco glared at his friends, and grabbed Bond's arm, "Come on Black we ought to get down to the lake,"

Bond followed the blond from the great hall, and out on to the sprawling grounds, "So," Bond asked, "Is care of magical creatures useless?"

Draco sighed, "It's interesting, magical beast are fascinating. I however don't have good luck with them what-so-ever, and the teachers an oaf- that's why Pansy's dropped it- not to mention it's always with Gryffindors. WE get to enjoy two hours of Weasley's impeccable company."

The two boys first were some of the first to arrive by the lake; Bond and Draco sat by the edge of the lake and waited for the rest of the class to arrive.

Hagrid gathered the class before last of the Gryffindors arrived at the lake. Hagrid was the biggest man Bond had ever seen. He was so in awe of the man's sheer size that he missed most of the lesson. He didn't notice the class had moved until Draco grabbed his arm and directed him over to a table covered in a stick like creatures.

"What are they?"

"Weren't you paying attention?" Draco said, exasperated.

"No, I was still shocked that our teacher is two stories tall," replied Bond.

"I keep forgetting your new." Draco motioned towards Hagrid. "you get used to it eventually."

They sat by the edge of the lake, Draco held the stick like creature carefully.

Alright, this is bowtruckle," said Draco, "they are guardians of wand trees- watch out for the fingers, if you're not careful it'll try and rip your eyes out. Our job to draw it."

"That's all?"

"That's all. However we also need to prevent it from running off,"

Bond nodded, he took a hold of the thin knobby looking creature, allowing Draco to start his stretch.

"Careful not to hold to tight, don't snap its limbs, or it will try and cut you," warned Draco.

"How dose one cut exactly? Is it a slice or more of a stab?" asked Bond

Draco looked confused, "A slice, otherwise I'd have said stabbed."

"Oh- you don't get it- guess it's a muggle thing then," Bond shrugged and pulled their wandering bowtruckle back towards them.

"What's a muggle thing?" asked Draco

"I'm going to cut you- it's a muggle saying, sort meaning shut up or I'll hurt you, it's kind a stupid, my friend Margo used to say it all the time," said Bond shrugging.

"So it's true that you lived with muggles then,"

"Yeah, I did, I lived with my two mates, Max and James. James had his head on straight most of the time and Max- well Max was a moron through and through. But they made life interesting I guess. Although I don't think I'll be able to look at pudding without gagging any time in the near future."

"Pudding?"

"Yeah- we ran short on cash this summer and lived off pudding for a while. It wasn't pleasant, and unsweetened too, nasty nasty stuff."

"How dreadful, do most muggles live like that? I'm curious about muggle cities. My father stayed in a muggle hotel for most of the summer, the Board of Governors always pick the oddest places to meet. He didn't seem to mind terribly," Draco admitted.

Bond had to admit, he liked the Blond by the end of the class. As much as he wanted to hate Draco he couldn't. The blond was spoiled, snobby and sarcastic, but Bond liked him, he was amusing. Bond however still hated to hear mention of Draco's father- and thought Draco was utter bonkers to want to visit a muggle city. Bond didn't understand why any one would want to leave the magic world, everything else was so dull.

Draco led the way back from the grounds, both boys had finished their bowtruckle drawings and manged to avoid Ron for entire class. Talk had turned to the new defense professor.

"It a surprise we manged to get a new teacher this year, I swear the positions cursed," said Draco.

"What's cursed?" asked Theo, coming up on Draco's right,

"The Defense position,"

"Ah," said Theo

"Cursed?" asked Bond

"No teacher has lasted more then a year for the last 20 years, it's a shock that people as still taking the job, actually," Theo said.

The boys stopped outside the class room. The door was open and Professor Umbridge was already seated at her desk. She wore the fluffy pink cardigan from the night before. Pansy looked horrified. The class stayed quite, while the room filled. Once everyone was seated she spoke, "Good afternoon," she said sweetly.  
She received an echoing silence, "tut tut, that simply won't do, now, will it?" she said, smiling her pointed teeth showing, " I should like you to reply, ' good afternoon Professor Umbridge". Now one more time please, good after noon class!"

The Slytherin students exchanged brief looks, before chanting dully, "Good afternoon Professor Umbridge."

"There, now," said Professor Umbridge, "that wasn't to difficult was it? Wands away and quills out please,"

The command wands away had never yet yielded an interesting class. Blaise, groaned and kicked Bond chair. Blaise leaned over his desk, "Theo- my man do you happen to have extra quill?"

"Ask Draco, " hissed Theo irritably.

"We both know he won't share-" Bond shoved a new quill into Blaise's hand and motioned for him to be quite, none of them wanted to attract the attention of the new Professor. 

Professor Umbridge tapped her unusually short wand on the black board, words appeared at once:

Defense Against the Dark Arts

A return to Basic Principles

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated professor Umbridge, she turned to face the class, her hands neatly clasped in front of her. "the constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your N.E.W.T year."

This was met with a stony silence, the Slytherins didn't appreciate being told they were below standard, still Umbridge continued, " You will be pleased to know , however that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry approved course in defensive magic this year. Copy down the following please."

A ball of paper hit Bond in the back of the head, Bond turned, Blaise motioned for him to open it. He did, it read:

Christ, sounds like we aren't going to learn anything this year. Theory- centered? What a load of crap. Where dose the Ministry find people like this?

Theo confiscated the note before Bond could respond, and pointed forward. Professor Umbridge had once again rapped the board, the previous message had bee replaced by:

Course aims:

1.Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can be legally used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

The room was filled with the scratching of quills as the students copied down Umbridge's three course aims,

"Excuse me Professor?"

Everyone looked to see who dared speak. Daphne Greengrass's slender hand was in the air, she looked at the Professor with regal boredom.

"Queries can be dealt with at the end of class, Miss -"

"Greengrass, I have a query about the course aims," Daphne smiled, flashing her perfect white teeth, "I'm sorry but I don't see anything about using defensive spells, and I know I must be mistaken,"

"No dear," said Professor Umbridge, "You aren't mistaken." The classes attention snapped forward scrutinizing the course aims, " I can't image a situation arising in my classroom that would require you using defensive spells-"

"We aren't using magic?"

"We raise our hands when we want to speak in my class, Miss-"

"Davis."

Umbridge turned her back on Tracey Davis, who now had her hand high in the air, "to answer Miss. Greengrass's query, we will be learning the new curriculum that wizard much older and clever then you have developed allowing us to to learn defensive magic in a secure risk-free way."

Daphne looked coolly on the Professor Umbridge, she once again raised her slender arm, "Yes, Miss. Greengrass?" said Umbridge.

"I wonder Professor, will only the knowledge of theory carry students through their NEWTS, and OWLS? I only worry without the practice our test score will fall and will reflect poorly on the school."

"Not to worry, Miss Greengrass, it is in the view of the ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more then sufficient to get you through your examination, and as long as you have studied the theory hard enough there is no reason you should not be able to preform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions- now I'm afraid we've wasted enough time, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

Once again she received no answer, "I think we shale try that again," said Professor Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, ' Yes Professor Umbridge,' or ' No Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes professor Umbridge," echoed back at her.

"Good," said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

Professor Umbridge settled herself behind her desk and watched the class with her wide pouchy toad's eyes.

Bond turned to page five and began to read. The book was horribly dull, he couldn't get past the first page- he just read the same paragraph over and over not taking in any information. The lesson dragged on endlessly, the only sound; the occasionally rustle of turning pages.

Two minutes and twenty five seconds before the lesson ended, Bond had counted, Umbridge stood in front of the class, "thank you for your exemplary behavior today, five point to Slytherin."  
She continued her voice breathy and girlish "I would to inform such well behaved students, that there is no need to fear disruptions of lessons this year, as the Ministry will be taking a more informed and active role in the education of students this year, and I as the representative will be pruning any practices that ought be prohibited, and I will look to such well behaved students for support in this important and difficult endeavor." She smiled widely, "You are dismissed."

Bond was more then glad when the class ended, he was one of the first to leave unable to be in that room longer then absolutely necessary, Theo was close behind him, they rounded and stalked toward the west wing and Transfiguration. The boys neared the third floor stair case; a voice halted their progress.

"Bond- wait!" Hermione hurried down the hall, Bond motioned for Theo to go on without him- Theo raised an eyebrow but complied, and continued down the hall, "don't be late, Draco will skin my if he know where I left you, and I happen to like my skin," he drawled as he drifted away.

"I'll be fine, I'm not a child Nott," said Bond,

Theo smirked, "very well Black, I'll be seeing you."

Bond watched the slender sandy haired boy disappear around the corner, and turned to Hermione, "whats the matter ?" he asked.

"Firstly, did you listen to Umbridge's speech last night?" she asked.

"Sounded like a load of waffle to me," said Bond.

"Yes- it was a load of waffle. But a lot of important stuff was hidden in that waffle-"

"You know Draco said the same thing. He thinks it means the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts."

Hermione looked taken aback, " Well, I think he's right- as much as it pains me to say that, and that's why I wanted to talk with you-"

Before she could finish, Pansy- who had stayed back to gossip with Daphne, interrupted "Bond, dear we must be going- it shan't do to be late to a lesson on your first day, excuse us Granger. We must be going," she took Bond arm and directed him towards the stairs.

"We'll talk later Hermione, find me later," called Bond over his shoulder. Pansy had been right they were nearly late. They weren't given much a chance to talk during their hurried walk to class but it was obvious Pansy wasn't pleased that Bond had been conversing with Hermione.

Transfiguration was by far the most interesting lesson of the day. Professor McGonagall was strict but fair. She ruled her class room with a iron fist. In order for the disgruntled students leaving Defense Against the Dark Arts not to lose a substantial number of house point they were forced to put the lesson behind them. Draco it seemed was no completely successful-as his tea pot still had feet at the end of lesson.

Home work for the week was already starting to pile up, the potions essay, drawing for Care of Magical Creatures, and a 10 inch essay on the 10 principles of transfiguration.

When the class was dismissed, Draco and Bond head towards history of magic, while the other dispersed to enjoy a free period. Theo accompanied the two boys as they hurried toward the east wing.

"Honestly Draco, your taking three useless subjects. Drop at least one of them or you going to go absolutely mad this year," said Theo.

Draco glared at him, Theo sighed, "you're still hung up on that Umbridge women, aren't you?"

"Yes!" snapped Draco, "her conduct was deplorable, I plan on writing my father about this."

"And what will that achieve? Lucius's on the Board of Governors if he could have done something wouldn't he have done it already?"

"What else would you have me do?" asked Draco coolly, "I am not going openly fight her, that's absurd-but what are my other options Theo? When you have a plausible idea why don't you let me know- until then Black and I must be going."

Draco's foot steps echoed on the stone floor as he stalked off, the History of Magic class room was on the the second floor,, and half way down a other wise deserted corridor.

Draco and Bond took a table in the back of the class closest to the door, Draco explained that a quick exit helped to prevent one from losing there head completely and killed the entire class.

"That bad?" asked Bond.

"Worse," muttered Draco

It was worse. Binns droned on and on- never changing pitch. it seemed he didn't notice that half of the class was asleep.

Bond bent over his potions text book looking, he wanted a head start on that essay. While Draco worked on a ever growing letter to his father concerning Umbridge.

Half way through the lesson Bond had gotten as far as he could with out further research and closed the heavy text book with a snap. He sighed and slouched low in his seat.

Draco looked up from his letter, and wrote neatly on the corner old parchment:  
_It's nearly dinner, I'm famished- be glad today isn't a double class_

Bond's response wasn't nearly as neat:

**Double class- how the hell do you live through that?**

Draco smirked.

Y_ou don't. I often use the lesson to do a bit of shopping, care to join me? We'll have to back on time. Potions is the lesson afterwards and Snape will murder us both if we're late._

Bond hesitated,

**Alright, is anyone else going to join us?**

_Blaise maybe- he's such a bad student. I honestly don't know how he's gotten his far._

**Do you think I'll be able to drop a lesson, a free period would be nice.**

_Seeing as your were an unknown I assume you were signed up for the classes it would be easiest for you to take- but as you are a seventh year you are not required have a full schedule._  
_However depending on how many N.E.W.T.S you get really effect what jobs you are eligible for, still I can't see how dropping divination would hurt you- I really ought to drop that one as well._

**That sounds good, by why are you still taking history of magic?**

I_t gives me a chance to get homework done- its easier to do it here then in a free period. No distractions. And if I want to leave the castle ground it gives me a window of opportunity-theirs no one to realize I'm missing. If you'd like we can go see Snape about dropping divination tomorrow before breakfast._

**That's so early...**

T_hen we could go during break, we ought to get it over with as soon as possible_

**Break will do.**

Draco nodded and rolled up the scrap of parchment, packing his things; class was nearly over.

Dinner was a quite somewhat subdued affair. The first day back was as always exhausting. Bond slowly ate his potatoes, and listened to the smattering of conversation-most having to do with either Quidditch try outs, or the Umbridge women.

Bond wasn't aware how quickly dinner passed, and soon Theo was dragging him to his feet. On the way back to the common room, Blaise tried to convince Bond to try out for the Quidditch team." Why would he bother? We've got a full roster this year," said Draco.

"Because it might be fun? You have heard of fun haven't you- Christ Draco you better watch it or you're going to end up like Snape," said Blaise.

Bond was pleased to find that the common room was mostly empty, may students choose to retire early, Pansy told him it was to try and stock up on sleep, "Some people figure if they sleep a the start of term, it'll carry over until when the homework piles up- stupid really."

Most of the seventh year gathered in a knot in front of the fire, it didn't matter that it was still September, it was cold in the dungeons. Bond was glad he'd used history of magic to get start of his work, and could just relax, and comment on someone else's work, "Blaise that isn't a conclusion, that's not even true."

"I don't care if it's true or not, I just want it done, so I can read Prophet."

"And why would you want to read that?" asked Draco.

Blaise stretched cat like, on the hearth rug, and pulled a tick green blanket over his legs, " because their a huge article about Sirius Black,"

"Oh- who wrote it?" asked Theo

"It's still probably rubbish," said Draco, crossing out a bit of his essay violently.

Bond had frozen, "Sirius Black?" he asked, his voice shaking, "who's that?"

The three boys turned to look at his horrified, "WHO'S THAT? He asks _who's that_, god. Where were you under a fucking rock?" demanded Blaise, gapping.

"I was with the muggles- now who the hell is Sirius Black and why should I know who he is."

"Everyone knows who he is," muttered Blaise, "how can they not! I thought it was on that muggle thing with the moving pictures, it was everywhere!"

"WHAT WAS?" snapped Bond.

Blaise about to continue to ramble, before his could open his mouth Draco said, "Sirius Black is the only man to ever escape, Azkaban- the wizard prison. A place worse then death.

-Fin


End file.
